Sympathy for the Devil
by Nimohtar
Summary: 'A prison is still a prison, whether it's a locked cell in Asgard, or trapped in the body of a mortal.' 'True,' Tony acknowledged. 'But it could always be worse; just think, you could have been trapped with Steve.' (Entry for the FrostIron Mini/Big Bang 2013)


It was dark in the room, the only light coming from the glass windows on the far edge and a few lights scattered around. Creepy as hell, really, and cold too, and Tony, standing dressed to perfection in a fine grey suit with dark blue shirt, tried not to let it bother him. What did it matter to him if Fury liked his little power plays? Tony had something more important in mind right this minute.

'I want the glowstick of destiny.'

Director Fury stood at the end of the long table almost half a room away, arms crossed behind his back, his leather coat stretched across his muscled chest. The eyebrow above his one visible eye quirked upwards, a silent and mocking movement that was an invitation to continue, but one that held no promise that he'd grant the request, and even hinted that if the next words weren't to his liking, there would be consequences for the one speaking.

Tony hated that look.

'The sceptre – Loki's stick,' Tony elaborated, 'I call dibs on it.'

Fury's expression didn't change, and there was a momentary pause before he spoke in his drawling voice: 'And why exactly do you think I'd give it to you?'

Tony went with the logical arguments first – those most likely to get him what he wanted. Somehow he doubted his first instinctive response of "because I'm Tony Stark and I want it; now gimme" would go down well.

'I've worked with it before, have already started experimenting, and have the equipment and money to devote to figuring it out.' There, nice and succinct. 'Plus,' he couldn't help but continue, dazzling Fury with one of his famous teeth-displaying grins, 'I'm a genius.'

Fury looked unimpressed. 'Dr. Banner also worked on it,' he stated.

'Yeah, and look what happened when he did,' Tony pointed out.

Fury's slight grimace indicated his concession of that point, clearly remembering the way the Hulk ripped through the helicarrier like it was wrapping paper.

'There are others,' Fury continued. 'Dr. Selvig has extensive experience in this area.'

'Please,' Tony snorted. 'Doesn't matter who it is; they're never going to be as good as I am. Okay, look,' Tony carried on, rallying more of the arguments he'd thought of on the drive over. 'Sure Loki's been sent back to Asgard with brother-dearest and the Tesseract, and while we're hoping they'll be able to take care of him up there, you and I both know how much of a sneaky son of a bitch he is. If he comes back, he's going to come back and hit us hard, and I for one would rather have something to throw at him when he does. His sceptre isn't the Tesseract, though they certainly share some connection, but it damn well packs a punch.'

He paused, waiting for that to sink in, although Fury gave no indication of its effect on him. 'Now, I'm not saying I'm going to build you the weapons I know you're after – been there, done that, got the t-shirt – but if I can do something with it to stop shit hitting the fan the next time some wacko comes along wanting world domination, then I'll do it.'

Tony was good at speeches, and he thought that one was pretty good, even though he knew Fury wouldn't appreciate some of the more crass sentiments. He was trying to maintain a sense of calm and seriousness, a dignity that wasn't all that common to him – not his usual impulsive, energetic-bordering-on-manic self. He was trying not to show just how much he wanted this.

'I can do this,' he repeated.

Fury gazed at him, single eye seemingly pinning him in place. After what felt like several long minutes he slowly turned around and began to walk away with slow steps.

Tony felt something inside him lurch, and he opened his mouth to say something – but before he could, Fury stopped, turning his head to the side just enough for Tony to see his eye gleaming in the dim room, the shape of his lips moving as he spoke.

'I'll see that the sceptre is transferred to the Stark Mansion within the next few days. So, Stark? Don't fuck this up.'

Tony let out a startled huff of breath as the Director walked away, tension easing from his shoulders.

'Yessir,' he said, and gave a mock salute to the empty room.

* * *

'No, don't put that there – it goes over to the left. You! Leave that alone – don't you know it's worth several million dollars? Get your grubby mitts off. Now, can anyone tell me where my deluxe coffee espresso machine is, please, and why I don't see it plugged in a prominent place right here?'

'Tony?'

Tony turned on his heels in an elegant spin, his back now to the chaos that was his lab, as delivery men and junior – and several harassed senior – scientists scurried about settling his equipment into place.

It was loud and messy and busy, and he was in no mood for interruptions, with one exception –

'Pepper!' he greeted, his voice warm as he stepped forward to kiss her on the lips, but with that ever-present deer-in-headlights look that Pepper always managed to inspire in him.

He tried to recall if there was anything urgent on the schedule that was sent to him daily, but he'd only glanced at it this morning before being distracted by a shiny new power tool which had been delivered, and god he'd never live it down if Pepper knew.

Hell, JARVIS had probably already told her.

'Let me guess – board meeting?' he said, as everyone knew the best defence was a good offence, and damn, was he now making sporting quips? 'Or…charity event? …Date?'

Pepper stifled a sigh. 'That's what my schedules are for Tony, as I remind you for the thousandth time. As it is, no, it's none of those. You are officially up to date on all your company work – gold star for you.'

'Is it real gold? Is that a thing we're doing now?' Tony teased. ''Cos I am totally up for that.'

Pepper raised her eyes ceiling-ward, and Tony thought he heard a whispered comment of "Christmas bonus, remember the Christmas bonus", before she looked at him again. There was a tell-tale sparkle in her eye though.

'Okay, pushing aside the insult that I can't come visit just because I want to see you, I came to tell you that the deeds for the mansion have been processed. While you're still owner of the controlling part, the other Avengers are mentioned in the deed as having a legal right to reside here, including Thor, and there's been an addendum made that in the event of your death, ownership passes onto the Avengers. So congratulations, buddy, it's officially now the Avengers Mansion.'

Tony nodded. While the rest of the Avengers had already been moving in and settling down the last few days, and work had already started on the specially designed rooms that it had been decided they needed, Tony knew how much the world thrived on paperwork and technicalities – all those boring things that Tony had a love-hate relationship with: on the one hand, pesky rules, on the other – great protection and ability to sue when it all went wrong.

'That's great news. You're an absolute star.'

'Well, considering the amount of legal hoops I had to go through to get it for you, glad you're happy with it,' Pepper commented, and then her gaze swept more fully around the lab. 'How's it going here?'

Tony looked behind him, narrowing his eyes as one of the lackeys – _science interns_, a voice in his head which sounded alarmingly like a weird Pepper-Steve hybrid corrected – nearly dropped a box full of glass science equipment. The young man noticed Tony's glare and let out a small yelp as he hurried into another part of the room.

'Well, JARVIS is fully installed and functioning, security is being upgraded both inside and outside, and all the equipment seems to have been delivered in one piece. And I even haven't made anyone cry yet,' he answered Pepper.

Pepper bobbed her head encouragingly. 'Well done, Tony, I am… proud of you,' she humoured him.

'Yeah,' Tony sighed.

Normally he would have preferred to do the work of setting up his lab himself, with no outside involvement or help, but with Fury's agreement only finalised an hour ago, he wanted to make sure the sceptre was in his lab under lock and key and a slightly more hi-tech security system as soon as possible - just in case the director changed his mind.

Of course, all of this would be far easier if they'd just let him take the damn thing to his Tower, or even his labs in Malibu, but those suggestions had been shot down rather vehemently, hence the reason he was frantically attempting to create a functioning lab here.

Hell, he hadn't even changed from his suit, and that was another several thousand dollars' worth about to be stained by grease, most like. Still, it gave Pepper another thing to berate him over… not that there wasn't an endless list already.

Tony sighed inwardly. Trust him to fall for someone who spent most of their time berating him and issuing orders.

'When's the sceptre arriving?' she asked.

'Should be here soon,' Tony replied. 'It's being shipped out with probably a whole regiment of SHIELD soldiers. Fury doesn't want to take any chances.'

'And yet he's giving it to you,' a voice from the doorway to the lab said.

Tony and Pepper turned around to see Agent Phil Coulson in the doorway, behind him a squad of SHIELD personal, four of whom were carrying a very large and telling metal container.

'Phil!' Pepper greeted, while Tony just grunted, glaring at the black-suited man. He still wasn't over Fury's little manipulations in making them all believe the Agent was dead, just because he wanted them to play nice. True, Tony couldn't fault the results, and he was certainly glad that Coulson wasn't dead, but the methods used were considerably questionable. Not really unexpected, though, he supposed.

'They finished patching up that hole in your chest yet?' he said instead.

Coulson shot him a level stare. 'Luckily, yes. A few bumps and bruises still to heal, but all patched up and back at work.'

'Pity,' Tony drawled, 'we could have got you a nice shiny arc-reactor as well. Then we'd almost be like twins. Except, you know, I'd always be the good-looking, smart one, and you'd be the slightly nerdy one picked last for team sports.'

'Funny.' Coulson's lips twitched upwards in a pained smile, at the same time as Pepper let out a disapproving "Tony!"

'Is that my glowstick?' Tony ignored the reprimand, his attention turned to the metal casket.

'If by "glowstick" you mean Loki's weapon, then yes, this is it. Fury instructed me to deliver it personally to you, and outline a few more necessary cautions,' Coulson informed him, but Tony wasn't listening.

'Yeah, yeah,' he muttered, already striding over to the metal container, motioning for those holding it to set it down over to the side of the lab which had already been set up. They dropped it onto a low metal table, and Tony ran his hands almost reverently over the container, feeling little tingles of excitement running through him.

It was here, again, finally!

'You'll need the code-', Coulson began, but broke off abruptly as Tony fiddled with the electronic lock on the front.

Five seconds later, it let out a beep, and the container opened with a hiss of escaping air, and Tony peered inside.

The sceptre lay there secured in place by shaped foam, all elegant metal and sharp curves, and blue glowing crystal -

Tony's manic grin dropped off his face as if it had never been, and he turned to Coulson with a frown. 'It's not glowing. Why is it not glowing? Did you break it?' he demanded.

Coulson raised an eyebrow. '_No_, we didn't "break it", as you so aptly put it. It stopped glowing as soon as Loki and the Tesseract left earth. Perhaps without Loki it just stopped working-'

'Thank you, Agent Coulson, for that inspiring deduction,' Tony cut him off. 'But how about we leave finding out the answers to the genius here? By that, I mean me.' His eyes slanted sideways to Pepper, taking into account the expression that promised some form of retribution later.

He winced inwardly, but his attention was on the shiny toy now, and he was sure he could sweet talk her out of being angry with him. It was one of his best skills.

'Okay, everyone, time for the genius to get to work now – so, you know, shoo.' He made swatting motions with his hands, not even bothering to look over his shoulder, fingers already itching to get to work, mind already occupied with what equipment he'd need and what he could do with it.

He was so lost in thought that he was genuinely startled when a hand came into view and slammed the container shut.

'Hey!' he protested, glaring at Coulson. The agent seemed unaffected.

'No,' he stated emphatically. 'Not until you've had a debriefing.'

'I don't need a debriefing-' Tony began, only to be interrupted by a new arrival into the lab in the form of blond boy-scout Steve, dressed in homely khakis and a sweater-vest which sent a small shudder through Tony's sense of style – and yes, his style was advanced enough to have its own personality, damn what anyone else thought.

Steve glanced around the lab, nodded as if he understood what was going on, and spoke directly to Coulson. 'It's here then? Good. I've gathered everyone for the debriefing.'

Tony signed mournfully.

There was no way he was getting out of it now.

* * *

When Steve – who else? – had first suggested the idea of an Avengers base where all of them could operate from and reside if they wanted to, the old Stark mansion had seemed a sensible choice all round. It was central, had plenty of space, and had been sitting empty for years. Tony had had no qualms about offering it up for use.

Besides, he'd seen previous SHIELD hideouts, which, aside from the helicarrier that even he could admit was bloody awesome, were rather lacking in style, and dear Captain America's taste was little better; if Tony was going to be associated with this little pack of misfits, then he'd do all he could not to be embarrassed by them.

The fact that he owned the place and could therefore control the systems and install JARVIS – who may or may not have been given instructions to limit Fury's interference – was neither here nor there.

Such a generous offer Tony, everyone's happy, smiles all round – especially from Steve.

Tony supposed the place was comforting to the Captain. It had always been Howard Stark's place, and after his parents' deaths, Tony had hightailed it out of there as soon as he could, his only involvement with the place making sure it was still standing – a job later passed onto Pepper. Untouched for so long, it still had that old age traditional feel to it, one which irked Tony, but seemed to soothe Steve.

Since Tony never intended to spend too much time here, and was only biding his time until Stark Tower was fixed, he didn't care too much about the décor of the place, and if keeping it as it was made the boss of their little merry band of men happy, well, he was only too willing to oblige.

Except that he didn't feel so obliging right this minute, following behind Steve's enthusiastic strides towards the ground floor dining room. Tony already knew there were plans underway to build secure meeting rooms and training rooms in the sub-level areas, but for now, this was the room that Steve had picked. Tony supposed the wood panelled walls and gilt edged paintings and hanging chandeliers appealed to him.

God, he didn't think he'd ever get over just how wholesome Captain America was. He just hoped he never found out about Tony's schoolboy crush on him – even Tony could predict the awkwardness of that.

The others were already there when Tony and his group arrived, sitting around the long wooden table with varying degrees of attentiveness and enthusiasm.

Clint and Natasha sat to one side, the former slouched back in his seat with his feet on the table, picking at something with a sharp little blade in his hands while he whistled a jaunty tune, and the latter sat next to him stiff-backed, her hands resting on the table before her one atop the other; her face was expressionless, but her muscles twitched ever so slightly whenever Clint reached a particularly piercing pitch. They were an odd pair, maybe more than a little out of place here with gods and monsters and super-humans, but they kicked arse, and Tony figured that was enough to grant them a place here – even if they were SHIELD's little toys and a little too fond of rules for Tony's taste. He'd made it his mission to wean them out of that.

Bruce sat on the other end of the table, his expression placid, and Tony might have been fooled by it – _had_ been fooled by it back when they'd first met – but the good doctor had revealed his secret to them that day they'd battled the aliens, and Tony was still working through what he felt about all that. For someone who had so little in the way of self-control, Bruce was a veritable enigma.

With Thor in Asgard, Tony and Steve's arrival meant that everyone was there, and Tony slumped down into the seat nearest the door, intending to be out of there as soon as physically possible. Coulson and Steve walked round to the head of the table; the agent placed a briefcase flat on the table in front of him, while Steve stood behind the chair looking around the table, his eyes practically beaming his pride in them.

Coulson coughed slightly indicating his readiness, and Steve's face immediately turned more serious.

'Welcome all, good to see you here. We've got something very important to discuss, and Agent Coulson will take us through it.'

Tony switched off at once, falling into that half-listening mode which he'd perfected during CEO board meetings.

_Tesseract yadda yadda… strict rules…caution…_

He wondered when he'd be able to get down to the lab, and how soon all his machines would be plugged in and ready to go. JARVIS was already running all the data he'd already collected while on the helicarrier – both his own and Banner's – and he already had the vague workings of a plan.

_Loki…Asgard…Thor return…_

He couldn't help but be annoyed by the fact that the sceptre had seemingly lost its energy – and was probably a large factor in Fury's decision to even let him have his hands on the thing – but he was pretty confident in his ability to get it started again.

After all, wasn't his speciality in energy?

_Precautions.. SHIELD guards…_

Tony snapped back, sitting up straight and shooting Coulson and Steve a furious glare. 'Whoa whoa, hold it right there. What do you mean armed SHIELD guards are going to be standing watch in my lab? No way, Jose – not a chance. I don't work in company, especially when the company involved is trigger happy soldiers who'll startle at the first little boom.'

'Boom? Are there meant to be booms?' Clint whispered from the other side of the table. Everyone ignored him.

Steve frowned back reproachfully. 'Tony, be reasonable about this. Agent Coulson and Director Fury are simply trying to prevent anything bad from happening while you're doing your work. Having some extra security won't stop you working, and might actually benefit you.'

'No,' Tony refused stubbornly. 'It's my lab, so my rules. I'm not working with other people there. If Fury wants me to do his merry little bidding, then I do this my way.'

Steve and Coulson exchanged glances, and Steve pursed his lips thoughtfully. 'What about if they stay outside the doors, but close by?' he volunteered. 'And an alarm call system, perhaps, in case something bad happens?'

'We have an alarm call system,' Tony explained to him patiently, in the kind of voice used on small children when explaining something difficult. 'He's called JARVIS. And fine, they can stay outside, as long as they don't interfere.'

'Agent Coulson?' Steve asked, ever the mediator between his unruly flock of high-powered grownups; they were worse than children, probably, and armed to the teeth.

'It's not ideal,' Coulson said, 'but if it's the best we can negotiate.'

'It is,' Tony said adamantly.

'Well, then…' Coulson trailed off, the most reluctant approval he'd ever given.

Tony stood up. 'Well, glad that's all sorted, pleased I could be of help. But you know how it is, gotta dash…'

He didn't wait for anyone to say anything else, just turned on his heel and skedaddled out of the room – but suavely, because he did everything suavely. He took the fact that no one came running after him as permission to continue, and within moments was back in his lab – now slightly more organised and suspiciously free of technicians.

Pepper wasn't there either, but Tony was used to her coming and going when he was distracted; she knew when there was no point in hanging around waiting for him.

His attention turned towards the container with the sceptre then, and the guards still stationed beside it.

'New memo, guys – SHIELD soldiers _outside_ the lab from now on.'

The nearest one looked somewhat unsure, a good little soldier boy following orders.

'Go check with Coulson,' Tony suggested.

The soldier glanced at his companions before he left he room, hand going for the communicator in his ear. Not up to the level that Tony was developing for the Avengers, but at least they weren't still using walkie-talkies.

Tony took the moment to familiarise himself with the layout of his shiny new lab. Not as good as his other one, but not bad for such short notice, he thought. Still a few things left for him to do, but a good start. And they'd even set up his coffee machine, although Tony had a feeling Pepper was to thank for that.

Some brave soul had taped a note onto the coffee machine with a smiley face on it and a scrawled "All finished; please don't ask us to come back".

Tony poured himself a cup of coffee while contemplating the idea of calling them back just for the sheer hilarity of it, but the thought drifted away as the soldier who'd left came back into the room. He nodded to his companions and the four of them left the room without another word; Tony noticed them station themselves outside, sipping from his cup until the door to the lab slid shut with a soft sound.

'JARVIS, lock doors,' he ordered, and then he was opening the box again, a grin forming on his face and he stared down inside it. 'Well my little pretty, let's see what you can do.'

* * *

Tony was a genius, and one who didn't think anything of tooting his own horn, so to speak. He'd created AIs while still a teenager, had a collection of patents larger than he could even remember, and owned a company that was not only at the forefront of mechanical creation and inspiration, but was so far ahead of the competition that Tony often wondered if they'd become lost from sight.

Not to mention what he fondly called his greatest creation, although he was still undecided on that front: on the one hand, sheer awesomeness in red and gold and him to the T, on the other, he was sure some people would think there was something more he could be doing with himself.

Screw those people though; they couldn't fly, or shoot people with energy blasts.

True, he had to give some of the credit for the arc reactor technology to his father, as loath as he was to do it, but the rest was all him.

Long story short, Tony Stark knew machinery, he knew energy, he knew science and engineering and technology as if he had degrees in it, and he could push the very boundaries of it.

It was little surprise then that he was so fascinated by Loki's sceptre.

The first time he'd worked with it, he had quickly decided it was a magical-mechanical masterpiece, a piece of art, almost, but with deadly purpose. It was from Beyond, from the Gods, and wow was that a thought that Tony, stalwart atheist, had a hard time getting his head around.

Here was a staff that had the power to open portals into other universes and take over other people's minds, for crying out loud. It had been used to draw out the Hulk and nearly decimate them. Tony had seen it work, and he was as terrified as he was awed by it.

And this was just a fraction of the power of the Tesseract.

The thought was enough to make Tony close his eyes and shudder – although he wasn't quite sure if the cause was excitement or fear. What he could do or find out if he got his hands on that?

Now that it was back in Asgard, he probably never would – but this was similar, and it was enough for him for now.

Now, if only he could get the damn thing operational again.

He figured Fury expected no less of him, so he felt perfectly entitled to give it a go.

He'd never interacted with the Tesseract directly, but he had his own previous work and Dr . Selvig's extensive research and first hand experience to go on, so he thought he had a pretty good chance of figuring this thing out.

Hell, he even had his father's old notes from when the Tesseract had first fallen into the hands of the Scientific Strategic Reserve; of course, the technology he'd had to work with it was seventy years out of date and subpar to Tony's, but reading it had given Tony a few extra musings. In some ways, he probably had to thank those notes, and his father…if he looked at it properly, he had a feeling that research was the origin of the arc reactor technology currently keeping him alive.

He was hoping to use that little gem of an idea now.

The nice and neat lab which the technicians had left behind them not even three days ago was a shambles, as was the usual fate of any place in which Tony had been for more than three hours. Numerous coffee cups littered the surfaces, as Tony kept forgetting where he'd put his last cup, and Dum-E was only too willing to fetch him more; wires were strewn over the floor in veritable trip hazards, and Tony had indeed come close a few times to pitching headfirst into the nearest table. It was perhaps just as well he'd moved beyond paper a while ago, otherwise he was pretty sure his lab would be condemned as a fire hazard.

Not that it wasn't anyway, and not that he even bothered with things like risk assessments and all those details. Stark Industries had bought controlling shares in several insurance companies for a reason….

He'd finally ditched the suit jacket after day one, and his shirt too, although he'd kept the trousers and tank top; the shoes he kept for purely safety reasons - nothing like a few dozen screws and metal shards jabbing into his feet to learn that lesson. His hair was raked into tousled tufts from the run of his hands through it, and there were several smears of grease and dirt on his face, but he didn't notice, as he rarely did.

He'd moved the sceptre over to his main working table, and was currently leaning low over it, fingers twitching at the metal circles he'd attached to the cube, making sure all the wires were in place and connected properly to the mains supply.

'JARVIS, we're going to do this nice and steady, okay? When I tell you to, I want you to bring the power levels up in twenty percent increments, short and sharp bursts.'

'Sir, do you think this is a good idea?' JARVIS' oh so smooth voice asked him, and there was a hint of uncertainty in his tone.

'I've weighed up the pros and cons and decided it's an acceptable risk,' Tony replied cheerfully, ignoring the doubt in his capability so clearly displayed. He was the boss for a reason. 'Just think of it like a defibrillator, except we're using an arc reactor, and it isn't a heart but a magical artefact from another dimension.'

JARVIS let out a long-suffering sigh. 'No potential for disaster there, sir.'

Tony glanced up and shot the nearest computer hub with a stern glare; it wasn't JARVIS exactly, but it was close enough. 'Look, who's in charge here? Me. So you follow _my_ orders. Or I'll download porn into your systems.'

'As you wish, sir,' JARVIS said somewhat sulkily, but he was a machine, so Tony didn't give a crap.

'Ready then?' he asked.

'Are you sure you should be standing so close?' JARVIS attempted to instil a sense of sanity one last time.

'On three,' Tony said, ignoring the warning completely. How was he meant to see whether the results worked from across the room? He'd always been a more hands-on kind of guy.

Tony counted them down, and on the number "one", JARVIS activated the arc reactor. Power flowed down the cables and wires and into the unlit cube of the sceptre.

Twenty percent…. A spark of light inside the blue, and Tony felt anticipation rising inside him.

Forty percent…the spark lasted longer, more like a dull glow.

'Turn it up, JARVIS,' he ordered.

'Sir!' JARVIS protested.

'Now, JARVIS,' Tony repeated, louder.

Sixty percent… Seventy percent… Eighty percent… The glow was definitely stronger now, the cube beginning to hum, and the metal of the shaft beginning to regain its former sheen. Tendrils of light and energy started swirling about the sceptre, and Tony no longer bothered keeping track of the counter; he knew he'd done it.

Full power capacity, and the lights in the room were beginning to flicker, but the glow from the sceptre far outshone them, sizzling and crackling, jagged arcs of light whipping through the air in deadly arcs.

Tony's sense of self-preservation, always a faulty and finicky thing, finally made an appearance.

'JARVIS, turn it off.'

Nothing happened, and Tony whirled to face the arc reactor.

'JARVIS? I said turn it off!' he shouted.

'I am attempting to, but it appears that the sceptre is drawing power from the arc reactor of its own accord. The only option would be to try and break the physical connection-'

But Tony was already moving, grabbing the wires that he'd slapped onto the sceptre and giving them a hard yank, uncaring of the vague burn on his hands. They came free with only minimal resistance, and the power cut off immediately – JARVIS' doing – but the sceptre was awake now, buzzing with a harsh sound, the glow intensifying to the point that Tony had to turn his head and cover his eyes.

'Sir, you need to move!' JARVIS let out a warning, but it was a token protest against something which could not be stopped.

A tendril of magic from the sceptre struck his chest, drawn to the power of his arc reactor, hooking onto it like barbs into flesh. It was like a punch to the gut, colder than ice, and Tony felt his body judder with the shock of it, the muscles of his arms and legs trembling. His vision had narrowed down to a tunnel of black, just the bright glow of the sceptre at the centre.

He didn't hear JARVIS' panicked alarms go off or the rush of pounding feet, the hammering of fists on reinforced metal and glass doors; he didn't see the last pulse of the sceptre before its light gutted out like a blown out candle.

He was unconscious before he even hit the ground.

* * *

'Tony? Tony! Please, God, Tony, wake up.'

The first thing he noticed when consciousness finally returned, other than Steve's worried voice calling his name, was that he was in a hell of a lot of pain. It throbbed in his head and his chest and his back and his goddamn fingernails, and did Steve really _have_ to shout his name so loudly?

'Ngggnn..' he uttered in protest, not quite the "shut up, arsehole" he'd been intending, and what's more it just seemed to encourage Steve to shout his name louder.

Bastard.

He prised open his eyes, squinting against the light in the room; it wasn't hard to find Steve, for the man was peering down at him only inches away, his baby-blues filled with concern that turned into relief when they met his gaze.

'Tony?' he asked hopefully.

'Who do you think?' he muttered, and patted around him with one hand until he found Steve, at which point he hauled himself upright using Steve as a boost, uncaring of how ungainly he looked. 'Shh…gimm'minute,' he said to Steve, cutting him off before he said anything else.

He took the moment of quiet to take stock.

His lab looked… surprisingly okay after that little unexpected energy surge. A few scorch marks here, some smoking wires there, a patch of melted… something under the desk to one side. In fact, the most damaged thing in the room was the door, which looked as if a wrecking ball had barrelled through it – a wrecking ball called Captain America, Tony knew. So much for reinforced glass alloy….

His eyes wandered over to the table, where the sceptre lay rather deceptively – his mind supplied an ironic chuckle – still in one piece, but sadly dull and unlit.

He sighed inwardly, somewhat disappointed, but if there was one thing Tony was good at, it was trying until he got what he wanted.

Maybe a recalibration in order to hold more power? he mused.

Steve shifted in front of him, and Tony let that thought slip away. There was no way he'd be allowed to carry on if he couldn't convince Steve everything was fine, and if the Captain thought there was the slightest chance he had a concussion, he'd be in the sick-bay as soon as he could be carried there. Literally.

He twitched his limbs experimentally – aches and twinges, mostly – and he concluded that he'd had worse hangovers, and would survive.

'Come on mother hen, help me up,' he ordered Steve.

He stifled the groan as Steve hoisted him up from under his arms, and although he swayed slightly on his feet, he remained conscious and standing, and he figured it was pretty good going.

Steve stood beside him with one hand outstretched in case he fell, and Tony snorted softly; he was really taking the whole "shh" seriously.

'You're worse than Pepper,' he told him, tone amused. 'And you can talk again.'

Steve frowned minutely, but took it in good humour. 'Are you all right? Do you need me to fetch Bruce?'

'Don't you dare,' Tony warned him. 'I'm fit as a fiddle – just a little bump. No big deal.'

Steve's eyebrows shot upwards. 'Tony, you blew the fuse for the entire basement level of the building, and I had to batter my way in just to see if you were breathing. You can't tell me this is "no big deal".'

Tony huffed. 'And yet I'm still walking and talking, so can we move on, please?' It wasn't the first time he'd risked life and limb for something stupid; his best course after the fact was move on, possibly taking some pointers along the way, before he stumbled across his next great idea.

It was everyone else who liked dwelling on the past.

He glanced around, changing the topic. 'Where are the super-troopers? I'd have thought they'd be salivating to get in here, like rabid monkeys. Or have they already called Fury to come tell me off and take my toys away.' His eyes flicked to Steve. 'Unless you're filling in.'

Steve sighed, still looking annoyed, but he had that accepting look on his face, the kind that implied he was questioning his sanity over caring for these people, but knowing he did and always would. Tony knew Steve didn't like his easy going ways and dismissal of potential danger, but they'd walked that route many a time before.

'No, I'm not here to lecture… much,' he added, 'and I thought it best to leave the SHIELD agents outside until I saw what was going on. Other than you unconscious and some smouldering machines, it didn't seem like much…but JARVIS didn't seem inclined to let me in of his own accord.'

'JARVIS?' Tony queried.

'I am afraid I was otherwise occupied containing the experiment, sir,' JARVIS replied, and Tony felt a stab of relief that the AI hadn't been harmed overly much. 'As it is, now that you are somewhat more coherent, I have been asked to relay that Agents Romanov and Barton are requesting an update on your condition and an explanation of events.'

Tony just arched an eyebrow. 'Clint, really?'

JARVIS' voice came out bone-dry. 'I believe it was best to relay the inferred sentiment, rather than an accurate transcription of his words.'

Tony nodded. 'Thought as much. You kick them out too, Cap?'

Steve looked faintly embarrassed. 'Something like that.'

'Well, I'd better go reassure the masses, then.' Tony suggested, and proceeded out of the room before Steve could say anything else.

It was almost three in the morning, and no matter how many times they'd been called from their beds for an emergency, no one was particularly keen to hang around in their pyjamas and bathrobes for longer than it took Tony to reassure them he was safe and sound and no, he wasn't going to bring the roof down on their heads – 'except you, Clint, because no one needs to see you in silk boxers; you look like a douche' – and a promise of a proper explanation in the morning; the word "debriefing" was uttered far too many times for Tony's liking.

Bruce gave him a brief check-over, just enough to confirm there was no concussion, and then he was waving them off to their rooms: Natasha nodded, Clint gave him the finger, Steve looked over his shoulder with one last relieved-worried glance that he did so well, informing him that he'd better be in bed by the time he'd finished talking to the SHIELD guards.

'Only if you promise to tuck me in,' Tony teased, leering.

Steve hurried off, his face tinged red, and Tony gave himself a pat on the back before he headed for his own room. As much as he would have liked to head back to the lab and try to figure out what had gone wrong, if Steve caught him there, then he really _would _get a telling off, and Tony didn't think he could deal with that without another hefty dose of caffeine.

He dropped onto the bed face down without bothering to undress, his face pressing against the expensive sheets and duck-down cushions he liked to import from exotic places. The light of the arc reactor was muffled slightly, but he was already drifting off, and he didn't even notice when Steve came and tucked him in.

* * *

It wasn't long before he woke again with a start, his tired mind snapping awake in the blink of an eye, focusing immediately on the buzzing of his arc reactor, the tingles that were spreading over his chest.

He pushed himself off the bed at once, sitting at the edge. 'Lights,' he snapped, and the room filled with the harsh glow of the light bulbs, such a contrast to the soft blue of the reactor.

He ripped off his t-shirt, and stared down at his chest.

It was somewhat funny just how easily he had become used to living with a high powered electro-magnet in the cavity of his chest. He'd designed it, created it, and knew every coil and solder in it, the feel of it working.

And so he knew instinctively that something was different, and when there was something amiss with the very thing keeping him alive, he felt he was slightly justified in a touch of anxiety. It was still working, he could see that, but it wasn't the same.

'JARVIS, run full diagnostics on the reactor, body functions, and figure out what the hell happened.'

'Yes, sir,' JARVIS responded at once, and although Tony couldn't see it, he knew that down in the lab, various machines and sensors were whirring into action; he didn't need to be in the lab for JARVIS to use the machines, fitted with a high-powered scanner in every part of the building as he was.

'Sir, initial scans show slightly elevated vital signs. Blood Pressure at 150/95; heart rate 97, with other function readings within normal parameters. The arc reactor is outputting at a normal rate, and no signs or risk of malfunctioning are present. However, there does appear to be some kind of unusual energy attached to the reactor; I would need to do a comparison analysis to pin it down further,' JARVIS informed him.

'Do it,' Tony ordered, some of his tension easing. It was good news that he wasn't in danger of dying right this second, and he could probably guess what the "unusual energy" was considering he'd just been fiddling around with the sceptre.

'Sir, running the energy components through my database, it would appear that with a ninety-two percent match, the energy most correlates to that of Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard.'

…Or perhaps not, Tony thought, as genuine surprise speared through him.

'Loki?'

At his word, he felt a sudden surge of rage rush through him, sharp and acrid in its intensity, and most importantly – it was not his own. It was a mind-boggling thought, but Tony knew it was the truth; it was too detached, like it grew from inside his mind as opposed to his gut, and although he had his bad moments, and times of self-hatred, it did not feel like his anger.

His breath choked in his throat. 'What the fuck?!' he rasped.

'You pitiful excuse for a human, _what have you done_?'

Tony literally threw himself from the bed at the familiar sound of Loki's accented voice, far too close and menacing for comfort – but there was nothing there.

'JARVIS, did you hear that?'

'Sir? I didn't hear anything.'

'No, he _wouldn't_, would he?' Loki's voice sounded again, an echo in his mind vibrating with the rage that Tony could still feel inside him, like cold fire on his insides. 'How could he?' the voice spat, 'when I am _trapped _inside your miserable shell-'

'What the fuck?!' Tony repeated, closer to a yell this time, his body freezing in place. 'You're in my _head_? What are you doing inside my head? You can't be in my head – it's _my_ head!'

'As if I am here by choice!' Loki snapped. 'This is very much _your_ fault, not mine.'

'No!' Tony protested. 'I'm not going to shut up, not until you tell me what you're doing _in my fucking head_! This is _not happening_!'

The last was said to himself, and he had to gulp in a giant breath just to stop the tight feeling in his chest – and the panic he felt was definitely him, not the _fucking god_ in his head, and how was this possible?

He knew magic could do some weird shit, but this? What was the purpose of this?

'Out!' he yelled. 'Get out!'

'Believe me, I have tried,' Loki replied testily. 'As if I would for one second stay longer inside this body than I have to. You're so weak, so mortal - it disgusts me.'

'Hey!' Tony barked, pointing a finger at the air, just because it made him feel better to project his emotions at something rather than nothing. Oh, he had the whole internal self-reflection and self-rejection down pat, especially in his drunkest lows, but this was a whole other level. 'I didn't invite you in here, you know? And buddy? At least I _have_ a body.'

Loki snarled, and it felt like a weird echo against his thoughts. 'You dare pit yourself against me, mortal? I am a _god_; I could _crush_ you!'

Whatever Tony wanted to say next was cut off by a sharp hammering against his bedroom door. He tensed, and fell silent, glancing towards the entrance; inside him, he felt a quick stillness, as if Loki had fallen silent in wait also.

'JARVIS,' he prompted.

'It is Captain Rogers, sir,' the AI replied.

'Shit,' Tony swore, wondering if he kept silent long enough would Steve go away.

Seemingly not, he found, when Steve's voice could be heard calling him through the door. 'Tony? Are you awake? I can see light.'

Tony squared his shoulders, and stepped briskly towards the door. He flung it open and stood in the doorway.

Steve stood in the bar of light streaming from the bedroom, his muscled body defined by the army-branded t-shirt and shorts he wore. His feet were bare, and his blond hair was tousled from sleep. He was staring at Tony with a concerned frown, and Tony tried not to feel awkward when he realised his sudden state of undress. Sure, the others had seen glimpses of the arc reactor around, but never quite so openly on display. It wasn't particularly something he liked showing people. Metal and glowing lights and weird elements – usually something that put people off.

'Steve,' he greeted abruptly, knowing he probably looked like hell, frazzled and not on his game, but knowing it was best just to brazen it through.

'I heard shouting,' Steve replied simply, his tone soothing. 'I just wondered if you were all right.'

Tony immediately bumped sound-proofing the rooms to the top of his list of things to do, especially if Captain "super-soldier" America was going to be hanging around.

'Yeah. Shouting,' he repeated, running his hand through his hair.

It would be so easy to explain it all; confess he'd made a mistake, and reveal the potentially disastrous consequences of it. Loki mind-control was nothing to joke about; just ask Clint, even if Tony tired not to ask Clint very much if he could help it. Steve would set the ball rolling, call Fury and SHIELD, and Tony would be shipped off somewhere and put under lock and key until they could figure out what was going on, and how they were going to control the God of Chaos and Lies currently residing in his fucking head.

It wasn't the most appealing thing to do, but it was the most sensible, and Tony opened his mouth to do just that, when he became aware of the prickling fear and bitterness emanating from Loki inside him. It gave him pause, and he licked his lips nervously.

'JARVIS,' he uttered instead of the truth. 'I was arguing with JARVIS.'

'JARVIS,' Steve repeated, almost as if he wasn't sure he should believe it or not.

'Yeah,' Tony affirmed. 'Nothing important. I'm sorry for waking you.'

Steve stared at him for a long moment, and Tony fidgeted, wondering if he should try to embellish more, but then the other man nodded.

'All right. Just…call if you need anything?'

'Will do,' Tony nodded enthusiastically, waiting impatiently while Steve turned around and headed back down the corridor, until he heard the click of his door closing. Immediately, he shut his own door, locking it, and turned to lean his back against it. An idea was forming in his mind. It was edging on stupid, but hey, he figured if anyone was crazy enough to pull it off, it would be him.

Because Tony wasn't the kind of person to wait, or pull his punches, he said: 'So…you wanna tell me what that little thing was about, mm?'

'You didn't tell him,' Loki said after a moment's hesitation, and there was an uncertainty to his tone, and also the feeling inside Tony's mind – and boy was this two emotion thing getting confusing.

'No, no I didn't,' Tony said seriously, resisting the urge to add "Mr Obvious" to the end of that. He wasn't completely sure what freaky things Loki could do to him right now, and he was trying not to push it. Trying, mind. 'Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm going to make a guess here that that little burst of panic right there was you not wanting your little prison-break to be discovered. Am I right?'

There was a suspicious silence in his mind, and Tony bared his teeth in an unpleasant grin. 'Look, Princess, here's the deal: I could have ratted your arse out here – and I still can, I can call him back any time – but I also figure that you've got to be more than a little intelligent, despite some of your stupidly bad ideas – I certainly can't hold that against anyone considering some of my own.

'You're in my head, and fuck if I'm okay with this. I want you out, and I'm going to say that this wasn't part of your plans, and you're not any happier to be in this situation than I am. The way I figure it, the best way we're going to get out of this mess is to work out just what the hell happened and fix it, and considering you're the only other one here who might have a clue, it would be mighty handy if you were inclined to co-operate.'

The following moments were tense. Tony figured Loki was mulling over his words, and how did that even work when they were in the same body? He didn't get it, and when he came across things he didn't get, his reaction was either to figure it out, or on the rare occasion, throw a tantrum…and then figure it out.

He'd always considered himself a calm man in the heat of the moment, ever a quip at the ready; right now Tony blamed his mini-meltdown on lack of caffeine and sleep; they were the two elements that ran his life. Sex came a close third, but the one time he'd joked about that he'd got a twenty minute lecture from Pepper on how nonsensical his whole argument was, and that sex couldn't be qualified in that way, and he'd decided from then on that it might be best if his little list stayed in his head.

'Well?' he asked curtly, getting back on topic.

Loki finally responded, his voice measured, still slightly testy, as if he didn't like admitting his predicament; considering he was the God of Lies and all, Tony wouldn't have been surprised if it was simply a matter of being uncomfortable with telling the truth.

'You are right,' he said at last. 'This was most definitely not part of my plans, and I wish to be released from this predicament as soon as feasible. To that end I am willing to co-operate, as you say, in order to accomplish it.'

Tony's breath left him in a whoosh. 'Good, good,' he muttered, half to Loki, half to himself. 'I want you to remember we're working towards the same thing: getting you out of here. That's all I'm after… anything after that, well. But until then, you work with me, don't kill anyone, don't try to take over my-' he paused suddenly, the thought occurring to him. He narrowed his eyes. 'You can't take over my head, can you? And what about reading my thoughts?'

There was a light flare of curiosity, and then Tony felt _something_ push against his mind, unpleasantly so, but it faded after several seconds.

'It would appear not,' Loki answered him. 'Whatever protected you before from my control is still in effect. How unfortunate.' He sounded genuinely upset at the last.

Tony's lips quirked upwards, but there was little humour in it. 'Ha. Funny. At least that's not a worry-' unless he was lying, '-and considering you have no body, any literal stabbing in the back seems unlikely… so yeah, where were we? You behave yourself, and I get you out of here with no one else any the wiser. So it's a truce?'

'As you like,' Loki replied dismissively, and if he didn't sound as enthusiastic or as interested as Tony might have wanted, Tony figured he'd be able to do something about it later.

'Great!' Tony enthused.

'Sir, am I to assume that you are actually going to go through with this plan?' JARVIS interrupted.

'Yes,' Tony replied breezily.

'Sir, might I make some suggestions as to further points of possible contention? Such as the Avengers, and the fact we are in the base of operations, and confidential information that may fall into the possession of Mr Odinson while he is residing in your body? Not to mention Miss Potts.'

'Mm,' Tony hummed. 'Good point. But we'll figure that out tomorrow. For now, it's,' he glanced at his watch, 'almost half four in the morning, and since I know for a fact that Steve'll be on me if I even attempt to go to the lab now, I say best to rest up and start squeaky clean and fresh tomorrow. So I'm going to bed. Again. And you… you do whatever it is the hell you do when you're stuck in someone else's brain.'

Loki didn't reply, but Tony wasn't fazed; he just stretched out on the bed again, shut off the lights with a quiet command, and utilised that wondrous ability of his to shut his mind down as if it were a machine; he'd never have survived this long without it.

Loki remained quiet throughout, and then Tony was asleep.

* * *

All was still around him, and Loki felt calmer than he had been for several days now.

It was an odd sensation to share someone's mind, an uncomfortable thing. It was the feeling of being unwelcome, of not quite fitting, of carving out a place in an indefinable space that shouldn't exist. He sat both within and outside his host; he was not dependent on their physical senses, but he could not interact with the world around him.

No matter the number of times he used this particular power of his, and the benefits he gained from it, he didn't think he would ever quite favour it in the same way he did his other talents and magicks.

Of course, the situation in which he found himself now could hardly be compared to his usual endeavours; an accident, as opposed to a deliberate calling of magick; a cage, rather than control.

It wasn't difficult to piece together the sequence of events that had led here.

Taken away in chains, mouth gagged to stop the power of the Trickster's words, he'd been brought to Asgard, to his father's hall, where he'd waited with head bowed for his punishment to be proclaimed to all and sundry. No chance to defend himself, with pleas or bargains or lies, and would he have wanted to do so even if he'd been given the chance, he wasn't certain.

_Loki _and _disappointment_ and _war on mortal Midgard_ and _difficult decision_, such pretty phrases had been uttered by his father's tongue – only Odin wasn't his father, was he? Loki had better not forget that.

Thrown away into the dark while a decision was made, Loki had conserved his strength and rallied his thoughts and plotted his escape.

His magick had been bound, true, but he'd always been far stronger than anyone had known and he'd had the very means of escape placed within his grasp – hurtling through the planes and strands of Yggdrasil, he'd had the Tesseract within his grasp, and he had not been idle, oh no, drawing on its strength and burying it deep inside to make use of later.

And left alone while others decided his fate, he had used it, calling upon that connection with which he'd grown so familiar, intending to send himself teleporting back to Midgard and his sceptre.

And he had – but something had gone awry, and he was here, without a body and his powers useless, in the body of a mortal – a damaged, vice-ridden mortal by the name of Tony Stark.

_Tony Stark_, Loki thought, his emotions mixed. An Avenger, his enemy, one who had stood against him and brought him low, had ended his foolish rally against Midgard, and was responsible for his defeat and enchainment as much as any who had stood against him. A mortal who had brought down a god, and Loki seethed at the very notion of it.

And yet…

Loki had walked the worlds in forms corporeal and not; he'd touched the minds of many, known their thoughts and dreams and souls; he'd mocked them and tricked them, used and abused them. Gods and beasts and creatures of legend, he'd seen them all, and thought himself superior – and then he'd come across the mortals of Midgard, and they repulsed him as they did fascinate him.

So weak and inept, he'd thought them easily crushed and ruled, and how wrong he was, that even these few men, mortal, albeit special in their own ways, had ended him.

And among their number was one Tony Stark. For all he wore an armour of red and gold and called himself the hero, he'd shown himself an imperfect and flawed being, a man of sharp tongue and sharper intellect to rival the greatest thinkers, but with a self-knowledge and truth that only few could possess, and that gave Loki pause. He was named Liesmith in honour of his godhood, but little did they realise the value he placed upon truth.

There was little he had not encountered before – but Tony Stark had surprised him, and it was a thing not easily done.

Loki's mind slid like a snake over the sleeping man's, a shadow over glass, nothing to touch or grasp or mould to his will.

The power of the shining element in the mortal's chest? It had spared the mortal Loki's enthral before. Did it offer him protection still?

It was as infuriating as it was terrifying, and the god felt again that eddying swirl of rage that had triggered so many of his actions of late. For one born of ice, why did he always feel so consumed with this burning rage made of anger and guilt and shame and loathing towards himself and the world?

In those moments when he detached himself from the rage he felt, he could list everything that had shaped him and influenced him into what he had become and what he had done; reasons, not excuses, for he was not one who believed in shirking responsibility in that way.

Like a child he had cried 'unfair' and lashed out at the world, and been rebuffed.

Well, he had plenty of time to think and reflect and consider on his mistakes, trapped here in this mortal form. He could plot and plan at his will, and this truce might yet prove advantageous in more ways than one. He'd traded his life for trinkets in years past, so he could certainly make a truce with Stark for the return of his body and freedom.

Never let it be said that Loki did not learn from his mistakes. He would adapt and he would survive and he would come out stronger.

Who knew what further surprises lay in store?

* * *

Tony woke slowly, his wonderfully imaginative mind slipping out from a dream which involved a live performance act of the so-called 'Fury and the Avengers', and if an image of Fury in a Queen-esque wig crooning into a microphone never came into Tony's head again, it would be too soon.

He smacked his lips slightly as he raised himself into a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes and scratching at his chest, where he could still feel the slight odd tingle to the arc reactor.

It was probably too much to hope that the Loki-vasion was a dream too, so he didn't bother contemplating it for longer than one happy moment.

'Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,' he aimed at Loki, wondering briefly how the whole brain-sharing thing worked. Did Loki sleep?

Loki's reply was vaguely annoyed: 'Must you call me that?'

'If the shoe fits…' Tony said, then grinned, 'Or should I say "slipper"? Although that would be Cinderella…' he mused, wondering just how many Disney-princess related puns he could make in the time Loki was with him. Or before Loki found some way to get around Tony's mind-blocking arc reactor – and who'd have thought that could happen? Saved him from making a shiny tin foil hat, in any case.

Loki ignored his comment. 'I believe we have matters to discuss?'

'Not before coffee, we don't,' Tony told him cheekily. 'JARVIS, what time is it?'

'It is 10:54 am, sir.'

'Where are the Avengers?' he asked.

'Dr Banner is in the lower basement storeroom sorting through a new shipment of stock; Agents Coulson, Clint and Romanov left early this morning on a SHIELD operation and are due to return later this afternoon, and Captain Rogers is in the kitchen; I believe he is waiting for you to make an appearance,' the AI added on dryly.

'Is he indeed?' Tony grinned. 'I'm afraid I shall have to disappoint, in that case. To the labs!'

'Are you sure that is wise, sir?' JARVIS interrupted, his metallic voice holding a note of alarm. 'Considering your…passenger.'

Tony pretended to think on it a moment. 'You going to spy on me and mine?' he addressed Loki.

Loki gave off an affronted air. 'You dare to _accuse-_'

'Yeah, yeah, don't answer that,' Tony cut him off, 'of course you are. So look, there's not much I can do about you getting an inside scoop on the Avengers; I can't exactly curtail my activities here, and who knows how long you're going to be with me. Just, you know, _try_ not to use anything you learn against us? At least not too much.'

It wasn't like Tony believed Loki wouldn't use this opportunity to spy on them; the sensible solution would be ship himself off to Malibu or Japan, far away from everyone and everything, but that would just raise more suspicion than staying here and carrying on with things like normal.

'I will make you no promises, Man of Iron, but will take your request into account,' Loki replied after a long moment.

'Good enough.'

Tony rose to his feet, shrugging on a black silk knee length house-robe that he picked up from the chair beside his bed; it belonged to Tony, but Pepper wore it more often than him. He only liked it because it made him feel wonderfully decadent. Plus, it disturbed Clint to see him wearing it.

He hummed as he made his way down to the labs, Loki oddly silent inside him. He'd been surprisingly silent since Tony had woken, and Tony wasn't sure what to make of it. He decided not to let it bother him until he had more information; he wasn't a naturally suspicious kind of guy, often to his detriment.

It was clear the moment he got to his labs that someone had made an attempt to clear up after the mess of last night; the broken glass of the door had been swept away, his array of mugs had been cleared, and much of the equipment from last night had been set to one side. The sceptre was still here, luckily for him, but it too had been moved – returned to the case in which it had been brought.

Tony frowned darkly. 'JARVIS?' he demanded.

'No one has been inside your lab since you left it last night, sir,' JARVIS informed him immediately, before his annoyance grew into proper anger. 'I thought it prudent to instruct Dum-E to clear up the worst of the mishap.'

Tony glanced to the left, and Dum-E waved at him hopefully, a broom in its claw.

He relaxed at once, a ripple along his body, and was smiling once more as if his spark of anger had never been.

'Coffee, and then to work,' he announced to no one in particular, his priorities ever in order.

It didn't take long for him to pour himself a cup of thick black liquid, more resembling sludge, but infinitely more palatable, and install himself in a computer chair in front of his main holographic console. He took a long lingering sip, gave a small moue of delight, and then finally turned his attention to his mental guest.

'So, let's start.'

'Oh? Are we finally ready?' came Loki's somewhat snide reply, full of annoyance. 'But what if I have some pressing trivial matter to attend to now, rather than devote my attention to more important tasks?'

'Yeah, yeah, you can primp your hair later,' Tony acknowledged, his agile fingers flicking over the console in front of him, bringing up the data that JARVIS had so kindly collated through out the night. 'I think we should figure out what happened first, and then move to how we can fix it.'

'Yes, that seems eminently sensible,' the Asgardian prince replied; there was still a bite to his voice, which Tony happily ignored.

'Using the arc reactor technology to jumpstart the sceptre appeared to work, as far as I could see and as far as my calculations show,' Tony mused, eyes scanning the numbers and charts which flicked before him. 'Up until things stopped going according to plan,' he admitted. 'From what I remember, the sceptre suddenly started glowing again, but then the strands of it just… seemed to spiral out of control, and it began to draw on the energy of the arc reactor of its own accord, and then switched to the one in my chest…' He lifted a hand to rub at his chest for a brief second, still feeling that jolt and tingle as the energy hit him.

'I've always thought the sceptre was a part of the Tesseract,' Tony continued, 'or at the very least, based upon its energy – and I believe the arc reactor is very loosely based upon the same, from when my father studied it. I think that's why it managed to kickstart it back to life, and why they connected in such a way. What I don't understand is how you managed to get dragged into it and into me. You have any ideas?'

Tony felt a fizzle of surprise from the entity inside his head. 'You are perceptive, Tony Stark, more than I thought you would be.' A pause. 'Your theory and calculations were correct; in ordinary circumstances, I believe it would have done exactly as you wished. However, what you could not factor into your experiment was my attempt to use my connection to the Tesseract and the sceptre to escape my bonds and imprisonment.'

Tony's eyebrows shot up. 'At the same time? You were trying to what, teleport?'

'In a manner of speaking,' Loki said off-handedly.

'But you got sent into my head instead? Because it latched onto me?'

'It would appear so,' Loki sighed. 'Your guess is as good as mine, mortal.'

Tony ignored the attempt at an insult. 'So where's your body?'

There was a brief moment of silence.

'I don't know,' Loki's voice admitted quietly, and Tony felt a sliver of unease coming from the god.

His own stomach clenched in sympathy, and more than a little nausea at the thought of what the consequences would be if the god had in fact lost his body. If it was on Asgard, maybe it could be retrieved; if it had been disintegrated in the experiment, and Loki's consciousness had nowhere else to go, Tony wasn't sure he'd survive it.

'There's no way to tell?' he asked haltingly.

A mental shrug. 'Not at the moment. Perhaps when I understand the situation a bit more, or gain access to my powers again…'

Tony grunted in response. 'Why did the sceptre stop working when you left earth?' he asked instead. 'What even powers it?'

'It is an ancient jewel from the realms of the Chitauri, created from the energy of the Tesseract, and imbued with my own magick to link it to me.'

'Can we use it to get you out of my head? Not that I'm not enjoying your presence, of course,' Tony dead-panned.

'Hnn,' Loki replied eloquently. 'Amusing.'

'Well?' he prompted.

'I believe it is the best option we have; it is what caused this in the first place. The Tesseract is a phenomenal source of power and energy, and the sceptre shares some of that.'

'That's handy to know,' Tony answered, finally turning his attention back to the console. For all his arrogance and snarkiness, Loki did seem to know his stuff, and Tony knew when biting his tongue was the better option – rare those occasions might be. He'd guessed most of what Loki had told him about the sceptre and Tesseract, but he knew that here he had someone who could give him all the knowledge that he'd never be able to figure out on his own – about that, and so much more. It was titillating.

'Where would be the best place to start?' he asked, then his mind immediately went off on a different track, as it inevitably did. 'It shouldn't take long to recreate the energy source from last night,' Tony mused, half to himself.

'Ah, sir, several vital components were unfortunately damaged in last night's experiment. They will need to be replaced,' JARVIS informed him somewhat apologetically. 'I will place an order to have them re-shipped, but I do not think they will arrive before tomorrow at the earliest.'

'Hn,' Tony deflated immediately, frowning slightly. 'Well there goes that plan for now. And I suppose we'd still need somewhere to put you even if we could get it to work…'

'Yes, that does seem quite a vital part to be forgotten so easily,' Loki commented faux-sweetly.

Tony flicked a pen across his desk. 'I don't see you shouting out alternative suggestions.'

Loki was silent, and Tony snorted softly, before his expression turned serious. 'Look buddy… you got to help me out here if we're going to do this. The whole… magic thing-' he waved his hand in the air in the vague direction of himself and the staff, '- it's not really my field.'

He stayed silent, waiting for the god to speak, not bothering to fill the silence with his usual chatter. It was a difficult situation for both of them; Tony wasn't quite sure how he'd managed to keep so level-headed up to now – perhaps simply that iron sense of will of his which had allowed him to build a suit in a cave, and to carry a bomb into a vortex.

His eyes closed automatically against the intrusive thought, and he had to concentrate on keeping his breathing even.

There was a prickle of curiosity from Loki, but Tony ignored it.

Loki began to speak. 'Magick is a…complicated and versatile thing. It may seem illogical, but it follows its own rules – much like your science.'

'And what are the rules of teleporting like you do?' Tony asked, continuing Loki's thread of discussion.

'To send oneself through space and time requires tremendous energy and care – particularly when crossing the boundaries of worlds themselves. It is not an easy thing; there is a reason why Heimdall watches the Rainbow Bridge, and why Thor was not easily returned when it was destroyed.'

'You have another way, though,' Tony said, knowing it to be true.

'I do,' he said simply, unwilling to elaborate. 'Whether I can access those powers now, however…' he trailed off, and Tony felt a twinge of frustration coming from the other being before it was pushed aside. 'The power of the sceptre lies in crossing boundaries, whether physical or of the mind,' Loki continued. 'If there is anything that would work… However, as I do not know where my body currently is, nor if it even still exists, I am not willing to risk using it unless we are sure I will come to the correct place.'

Tony nodded. 'Fair enough. That means we need to A) figure out if your body still exists, and if yes B) figure out a way to either get it to us, or get you to it. That about sum it up?'

'Adequately,' Loki replied.

'So, how do we do that, then?'

* * *

It was a long afternoon. Despite working towards the same goal and the few ideas they tossed between them, Loki was not a patient individual, and although Tony was pretty sharp, as he'd said earlier, Loki was the expert in magic, and Tony needed a bit more information than Loki was willing to part with before he could work out what might help. Admittedly, not all of his questions had been particularly relevant, and he supposed it was only a matter of time before tempers frayed and barbed comments became more frequent.

Steve's interruption just after lunch was perhaps timely.

'Tony, you didn't have breakfast,' he accused seriously. 'Or lunch.'

'Good afternoon to you too,' Tony greeted, 'and I did too have breakfast.'

'Coffee doesn't count,' Steve disagreed. 'I've got an omlette for you upstairs; I also want Bruce to check over you again.'

Tony rolled his eyes, stepping away from his desk and stretching the muscles in his back. 'I'm fine, honestly, barely even a scrape after last night.'

'Upstairs, Tony. Now.' Steve's curt order brooked no defiance, and he left the labs almost as abruptly as he had entered.

Tony knew fine and well that if he didn't follow him, the Captain would just hunt him down again and use force; it had happened before, and thank god Clint hadn't been around otherwise there'd have been pictures.

'Break would probably do us good, anyhow…' he muttered out loud.

He arrived in the kitchen a few minutes after Steve, who nodded approvingly when Tony took a seat at the round dining table to one side.

Amazingly, the food laid out for him did look kind of good, he had to admit, and his rumbling stomach agreed. Figures Captain America would be a decent cook; he was good at pretty much everything else. Except technology, Tony thought, his mouth twitching upwards, mind already thinking of tricks he could play on the unsuspecting soldier. He'd never get over Steve's reaction to electric toothbrushes.

He was tucking in enthusiastically when Bruce entered the kitchen, looking somewhat hangdog – more so than usual, as Tony figured it was his normal expression. He nodded to Steve in greeting, poured himself a cup of black coffee, and came over to the table and Tony.

'That for me? You shouldn't have,' Tony teased, motioning towards the cup.

'Trust me, you don't want to fight the Big Guy for this, Tony. It's not a fight you'd win.'

Tony snorted.

'Steve wants me to check you over again,' Bruce continued.

'Steve worries too much,' Tony retorted.

'True,' Bruce acknowledged, 'but you'll still need to be cleared for active service.'

'Like I haven't gone out fighting half-dead before…' Tony grumbled. 'Did Fury put you up to this?'

'No,' Steve argued, coming over to join them, his expression serious. 'I'm putting it in. It's important, both for the individual and the team, to be in top condition should anything happen. We're not going to risk losing someone or jeopardising the mission due to injury. However, there may be exceptional circumstances, in which case exceptions might need to be made, but they would be just that – exceptions.'

Tony waved at him in a "spare me the lecture" kind of gesture, focusing on his food once more. 'If it'll keep you happy…'

'I'll do a physical, run some scans... it shouldn't take long,' Bruce told him.

There was a flare of alarm from Loki inside him, who had been quiet up until then.

'Do not let him runs any scans,' Loki hissed inside his mind. 'You do not know what he will find.'

Tony gave a little nod to show he'd heard. He mopped up the last of his meal and set his cutlery on the plate, giving a stretch and patting his belly. 'Good one, Cap,' he complimented.

'As ever, my aim is to please,' Steve replied in a good-natured drawl.

'All done then?' Bruce queried. 'Good, let's get you checked up.'

Tony followed the other man from the kitchen to the basement room which little by little being turned into a med-lab, currently under Bruce's care. There had been some talk about installing a fully trained doctor on site to deal with their physical ailments. However, considering the nature of most of them – Thor a god from another world, the Hulk, even super-healer Captain – the need was deemed pretty low. Those who were injured would be treated at SHIELD facilities, and for everything else, Bruce covered the basics.

While the scientist wasn't trained in medicine as such, he'd still developed a wealth of experience and working knowledge from his research into the Hulk and its connection with his human form, and among the Avengers, probably had the most knowledge of such things, with perhaps the exception of Clint and Natasha, who would have been trained in basic survival and first aid.

Not that it was really Tony's physical health that Bruce would be checking up on now.

Once in the lab, he allowed Bruce to settle him onto a medical bed, and he swung his legs absently, almost hitting Bruce as he came close.

The other man frowned, but there was a hint of a smile on his face. 'I know you don't like doctors, but there's no need to kick me.'

'You know, if you wanted, JARVIS could just send you all these results,' Tony offered as Bruce attached a blood pressure monitor to his arm. 'I'm just saying!' he went on, as Bruce looked unimpressed.

'Sometimes, Tony, you need a human touch.'

'Says who?'

Bruce didn't respond as he took Tony through basic observation tests, pulse and temperature and reflex and response times. Tony bore it all with good grace, up until Bruce commented: 'I want to run some energy readings; I'm just going to get the scanner...' and turned away.

Tony reached into his pocket and pulled out his ever-present Stark-phone, agile fingers typing and pulling up images and lists as he kept an eye on Bruce's progress.

'What are you doing?' Loki asked, thinly veiled annoyance giving his tone an edge. '_Do something_.'

'I am,' Tony muttered under his breath, eyes flicking upwards to track Bruce's progress, returning to his screen. His mouth quirked upwards in a smirk as he completed his aim, and he slid the phone back into his pocket just as Bruce returned from the other side of the room.

'Okay, if you could just hold still-'

'Tony, Bruce, we have a situation,' Steve's voice came clear across the speakers, interrupting the scientist. 'I'm going to need you to come up here straight away.'

Bruce frowned, glancing in the general direction of the ceiling, where Steve's voice had emanated from. 'I wonder what's up…' he mused.

'Well, only one way to find out,' Tony said, hopping down from the medical bed and clapping his hands together in feigned eagerness.

'Hey, hey!' Bruce protested. 'Don't think you're getting out of this.'

'Can't hear you!' Tony yelled back over his shoulder as he left the room. Within moments he was making his way up the stairs and to Steve.

Loki let out a little grunt inside Tony's mind. 'You? Clever.'

Tony grinned, shrugging with his accustomed ease.

It didn't take long to reach Steve upstairs, and Tony found the Captain already suited up in his stars and stripes. He'd expected it.

'What have we got, Cap?'

'We have a hostage situation in Boston; not normally our purview, but things have got nasty – and important people are involved. They've asked for our aid specifically.'

'Imagine that,' Tony stated, his voice bordering on cheeky.

Steve frowned slightly, but decided not to pursue it. 'The three of us should be more than enough to cover the situation,' he continued. 'We'll take the quinjet; you get your suit and meet us there. I'll relay instructions over the comms.'

'I love it when you get all authoritative.' Tony feigned a shiver.

Steve sent him a quelling look. 'Behave. Bruce still hasn't technically cleared you.'

Tony saluted half-heartedly before setting off down to his lab to get suited.

'Were they really in need of your aid?' Loki questioned as Tony stood and let the machines fit the suit to him.

'They could probably have handled it themselves,' Tony admitted, 'but when it was suggested, they weren't going to turn us down.'

The suit slotted into place around him, the face-plate closing shut and the HUD lights flickering to life. JARVIS was already inputting co-ordinates and setting up a flight path.

Tony took the lift up to the back of the house and stepped out the back doors into the garden. One brief moment to orientate himself, and then Tony was shooting into the air at full-speed, weaving his way through wisps of cloud and air currents, letting the power of his thrusters propel him forwards.

He'd done it so many times now, it was second nature to him, half his own intuition and instruction, half the suit and JARVIS working in sync. Tracking the flight path, it took him several moments to catch onto Loki's reactions inside him, and when he caught that sharp edge of adrenaline born of unease, he could only quirk his eyebrows in puzzlement.

'Hey, you okay in there? I know it's not quite a carpet ride…' he trailed off, his mind only half on it as he ducked out of the way to avoid an oncoming plane.

There were a few moments of silence before Loki replied. 'How is it you do this?'

'Do what? Fly? It's easy once you know how,' Tony replied, somewhat blasé, in one sentence glossing over the amount of work and calculation and struggle he'd gone through to get there.

'No; I am talking about trusting your life to this..._machine_,' Loki said the last as if it were something vile. 'It is so fragile, so open to weakness and easily destroyed.'

'Well, you'd know about that,' Tony retorted, before dismissing old grievances with an easy shrug. 'I trust it because I trust my knowledge and my skills. Do you trust that your magic will do what you want?'

'Of course!' Loki sounded offended at the suggestion.

Tony's eyebrow quirked upwards. 'There you go then; it's the same thing.'

'If my magick fails, it is not my life that is on the line.'

Tony snorted softly. 'I think it kinda is at the moment, though, wouldn't you say? You're relying on me to get you out of me and back into you.'

Loki had no reply to that, but his emotions seemed to be reflective, from what Tony could gather.

He continued, voice subdued but not defensive – never defensive: 'In the end, it's all I have. I'm not as special as the others.'

'There, Stark, I think you're wrong,' Loki replied quietly.

There was silence for the rest of the trip.

* * *

It was...enlightening, watching the Avengers at work. Loki had only ever witnessed their efforts from the view of the enemy; now, he was being given the chance to see the inner workings of the team, albeit only half of it.

It was not something he had experienced before.

He thought of those occasions when he would accompany Thor and his companions on their outings and adventures – including that fateful trip to Jotunheim. He had participated, and yet his actions had always been separate, geared towards his own safety and purpose. Oh, he had always been aware of his companions, their positions and actions, anything which might prove an advantage to him – and equally a disadvantage, but he had always been removed.

He had never been the team such as the Avengers were – even Tony Stark, who was a loner as much as he was.

There was a constant stream of communication between them, instructions and warnings and amendments to the plan they had concocted on the journey there. The Captain would reveal a new piece of information, and Stark and Banner would react to it; something unexpected would occur, and Stark would inform the Captain, who would advise in return.

It wasn't seamless, of course, but almost so, enough that it baffled the god.

He had never shared such understanding with beings – at least not any that had not been under his control.

Thor had wished for such a bond, he knew, and Loki remembered that as children they had had something of the sort in the way that the young often do; that had disappeared with the end of childhood, when Loki had realised that despite all Odin's words, he was not equal to his brother, that his skills in magick were inferior to the strength of Thor. Then had been planted that seed of jealousy, then had begun the need to prove himself.

From that point on, he had shunned any chance at connection.

After the events of Thor's banishment and the Chitauri, the offer would not be forthcoming again.

Loki had thought that he had long rid himself of the desire for such a thing, but to witness such a thing from Stark's very eyes brought such troubling thoughts to the surface, that tinge of nostalgia and regret, even as he memorised their ways for future use.

And then the mission was over, and the heroes gathered together for congratulations and smiles and hip-hip-hoorays.

And Loki tried not to feel bitter.

* * *

They'd returned to the mansion in record time, Tony felt. The hostages had been freed fairly easily, and they hadn't even needed the Hulk. As Tony had told Loki, it wouldn't normally have been a mission for the Avengers, but Tony hadn't been too picky with choosing his means of escape from Bruce's tests. He'd been cleared without anything further being said, and that was good enough for him.

Steve hadn't even called for a debrief.

Natasha and Clint had returned towards early evening, tight-lipped about their mission, as they frequently were when it came to SHIELD work; Tony had spent half an hour trying to prise details from them, and only partially succeeding – which was progress as far as the Agents were concerned, an indication that with every passing moment they were sliding from SHIELD to the Avengers.

It had become custom for them to gather in the evenings. Sometimes it would be a film night, where they took turns in introducing Steve to both classics and latest blockbusters; sometimes, Natasha would call for a drinking night, although Tony had long learned that not even his hardcore drinking could come close to hers, and he was meant to have cut down anyway; and sometimes, they'd just gather for a drink and a chat, an update of the day or nothing at all.

It made a sad kind of sense: for all their abilities, they all lived alone, that ability to connect and maintain friendships and relationships either lost from circumstance or choice.

At least here, together, they had something.

Sometimes, in those instances, Tony would think back to the cave in Afghanistan, and remember Yinsen, and the comment on what Tony had in his life.

Compared to back then, he thought he was doing pretty well.

Late that night when the others had gone to bed and he was pottering about in his lab, too weary to work but too awake to rest, his thoughts turned to Loki.

'Hey, you awake in there?'

'I am here,' Loki replied, his voice subdued. 'I do not sleep in this form.'

Tony wanted to ask what had the god so down, but after a moment thought better of it. After their little chat during the flight to Boston, Loki had kept mostly quiet, and as Tony had had other things to think about, he'd been grateful and not too concerned in questioning the other's thoughts.

And, considering he'd been a good sport about it all, Tony supposed he owed him some gratitude. 'Hey, uh, thanks, you know – for not... ('_kicking up a fuss'_, he wanted to say, but thought better of it)... complaining about the unexpected trip,' he finished with.

'It was nothing,' Loki dismissed. 'It was...informative.'

He should have sounded happier than that, but Tony caught an edge of sourness to his words. He struggled with himself for several seconds, but in the end his curiosity won out.

'You okay? I know we didn't make as much progress as we could today, but we'll get there,' he tried to console. Even if that wasn't quite was getting Loki down, it was probably involved.

Loki snorted, and his words were biting: 'So confident are we? I wish I could say the same.'

Tony opened his mouth to reply, an insult already on his tongue, but his anger fizzled away; he was too tired for this.

'Doesn't matter,' he sighed instead, and rising from his workbench, he made his way to the small cot-bed on one side of the lab, dropping down onto it with a soft thump. Usually it was where he slept when in the middle of some important experiment or other; at the moment he just didn't feel like making the trip to his bedroom.

'Lights out,' he ordered, and dropped his head onto the pillow, pulling up the blanket over his shoulder. He still had his shoes on, but it wouldn't be the first time he'd slept in his clothes. He closed his eyes, and tried to shut out the strange feelings he was getting from Loki.

'Stark?' Loki called softly.

Tony ignored him, and rolled over. Unfortunately, it wasn't so easy to escape someone when they shared your head.

'Stark,' Loki called again, his voice sharper. 'Answer me.'

'What now?' Tony muttered into his pillow.

'You are offended,' Loki said, and he sounded surprised, but Tony thought that must be his imagination.

'Wasn't that what you were going for?' he pointed out.

Loki didn't argue with that. Instead he said, 'I didn't think it would affect you so.'

Tony supposed that could be construed as an apology – if he squinted. He wasn't going to press it. He rolled onto his back, one hand resting on the arc reactor in his chest, staring up at the ceiling bathed in soft blue and the flickering lights from his various consoles. He found it soothing.

'I get you're angry about all this, but no need to take it out on me,' he carried on, and thought the request was pretty reasonable. 'I'm all you've got at the moment.'

Loki's emotions flickered in some subtle way, too quick for Tony to discern, but he got flashes of anger, and that same edge as before, which Tony was starting to recognise: he thought it might have been sadness, but it was so mixed in with other things, he couldn't tell.

'I am very much aware of that,' Loki replied simply. 'A prison is still a prison, whether it's a locked cell in Asgard, or trapped in the body of a mortal.'

'True,' Tony acknowledged. 'But it could always be worse; just think, you could have been trapped with Steve.'

The god snorted softly, and Tony felt his mood lighten, just slightly.

Tony smiled softly, not sure why making Loki feel better pleased him; he chalked it down to a happy god in his head making his life easier.

It wasn't long before he drifted to sleep.

* * *

There was no such thing as sleep when sharing another's mind; at best, Loki could let his thoughts and mind drift, relax his concentration and allow his consciousness free to float. It was not unlike meditation, the kind he practised in order to hone his skills in magick and train his senses. In order to manipulate an object, you needed to understand it.

Perhaps that was why Loki found his current host so difficult.

His expectations were constantly being contradicted. He was unsure whether it was just that he had underestimated the mortals in general, or whether this was something unique to Stark. He suspected the latter.

It didn't make him uneasy, this underestimation of his, but it did make him pause. He would have to watch his words more carefully. He did not think that Stark would rescind his offer of aid, but as the man had so clearly pointed out, he was all that Loki had, and while he was currently as powerless as he was, Loki did not want to jeopardise his situation any further.

He turned his attention to the lack of magick; as he had described earlier, magick was unpredictable, but Loki had spent his life mastering it. It had been one of the only skills he had excelled in, and a solace to his pride on realising that he would never compare with his athletic warrior brother. Of course, it had just set them apart even further, but by then Loki had ceased to care... at least on the surface.

Thor had never understood his gifts, but had appreciated them when they worked in his favour; he had treated Loki the same way.

For Loki, though, magick had been his life. He had breathed it, spent hours practising and perfecting, studying ancient scrolls and texts and travelling the galaxies in search of different kinds of magick to learn.

The lack of it now was akin to losing a limb, and he tried not to think too deeply on it lest his despair consume him. He had to believe it would be returned to him, same as he had to believe he would be returned to his body. Without either... he was trapped here, at the mercy of the mortal man he inhabited.

Loki had never done well with being trapped.

Lost in his trance, he felt vague vibrations against his mind, and turned his attention towards Stark. The man's mind was more open in sleep, and he could pick up traces of unconscious thought if he concentrated.

Stark's mind was full of turmoil at the moment, sharp spikes and jagged edges that grated against Loki. A nightmare, Loki surmised, and a vicious one at that. He wondered what dark dreams such a man could be having.

Stark's body jerked, thrashing beneath the covers and his breath grew shorter; he whimpered.

Loki waited a few moments more, debating whether to attempt waking the mortal, or to let his dream play out.

'Stark,' he called, almost before his decision had even been made. 'Wake up.' He pushed all the command he owned into his voice.

It was enough. Stark's eyes shot open and he bolted upright in the bed, his breathing ragged and uneven. His eyes scanned the room as if unsure where he was, and he couldn't seem to settle his breathing.

'Stark,' Loki called again. 'You were dreaming.'

The man shuddered and dropped his head into his hands, fingers scraping roughly over his face and into his air. Exhaustion clung to him, and his mind had yet to settle, although he seemed to have returned to himself.

There was a whir to the left, and Stark turned to look; one of his machines stood there, a glass of water clutched in its claw. Stark took it gratefully and gulped down the contents.

Loki observed the machine, just another creation which Stark had made; not as complex as the talking one, but more human than most Loki had come across in his short time on Midgard. There was magick here too.

Stark twisted in the bed so that his feet lay on the floor, his elbows on his knees and his head still in his hands. He seemed better, but far from recovered.

'What do you dream?' Loki asked, his curiosity too great to resist.

'I dream of New York,' the mortal replied, and there was nothing but honesty in his voice.

'The Chitauri?' Loki asked.

'Partly,' Stark answered.

'You narrowly escaped death, were faced with great odds; it's to be expected,' Loki said simply, dismissively.

Stark let out a bark of laughter, but it was without humour. 'You don't even feel guilty, do you?'

'Why should I?' Loki sneered.

'Why did you do it?' Stark asked instead.

Loki hesitated. Did he wish to share his innermost thoughts and motives with this man? Would they – could they – be used against him? Only when he had deemed the answer to be "no" did he answer.

'Do you understand what it's like to live with revulsion? To be scorned and mocked for the talents you possess, simply because they are not deemed sufficient in comparison to others. Do you know what it is to be perceived as unworthy?' His voice was like shadows, a soft whispering caress.

'_I am not unworthy_,' he argued, his voice harsh with emotions born of long years filled with jealousy, of bitterness.

He remembered Odin, showering Thor with praise when he first showed promise at war, and then yet more when he wielded Mjolnir.

He remembered the moment when Odin stripped his brother of his powers, the words he had yelled, and the first moment Loki had thought that he might have a chance to outshine the golden Thor, to prove himself.

It was a thought which had been shattered not long after, when blue had coloured his skin and he'd learned the truth.

'I am not unworthy,' he whispered again, and whether he spoke to Stark or himself, he was not even sure.

'Hey, buddy, I don't think you're unworthy. Perhaps just a little misguided.' The quietness of his tone matched Loki's, and his voice was tinged with sympathy. He continued, 'I mean, being the bad guy isn't fun – _being _bad, sure, I'm all for that, but being _the _bad? Not so much. You're primarily on your own with no friends, and the people who're going to be against you far outnumber those who might stand by your side. And as for these particular guys who're are against you – well, as I told you before, we have the Big Guy.

'Look,' he said more gently. 'I'm not saying turn into the Fairy Godmother, but just think about it. I exemplify that kind of contradiction: I'm fully aware I'm an egotistical arse, and yet there's no question I'd fight and die as much as the next hero.' His smile was bittersweet. 'If you ask if I'm trying to prove something, then the answer is probably "yes", but we've all got our demons….and possibly more than a few personality disorders.

'What I'm saying, and I'm not sure how well I'm saying it, it that maybe it's time to rethink the strategy a little.'

Loki mulled over the mortal's words. Part of him wanted to lash out with some scathing remark which would turn the mortal's sympathy to animosity, and free Loki from the weight of it.

The other couldn't help but consider them, as his own thoughts had run along similar lines in recent days, if perhaps a tad more elegantly.

It was true he did not regret his actions, did not care for the deaths and destruction he had caused; if it would grant him his aims, he would do the same every time.

It was the failure of those aims which galled him.

As in any experiment, if the methods one used proved ineffective, it was best to pursue another.

'Yes, perhaps you are right,' he murmured. 'You are a remarkably honest man.'

Stark flicked his hand in the air. 'Better with others than myself.'

Loki's silence spoke for itself.

'Anyway.' Stark rose to his feet abruptly. 'That's definitely enough for philosophical conversations for tonight, I think. Let's see what we can do for the rest of the evening about getting you back.'

* * *

Tony lay sprawled out over his desk, doodling on a bit of paper in front of him; they were probably some kind of important documents he had to sign, but admittedly he hadn't looked too hard.

He'd started with a sketch for a new prototype fuel combustion engine he'd been playing around with in his head, but an error and boredom soon turned it into an x-rated mech-porno sketch that verged too much on that random Transformers porn art he'd accidentally stumbled upon during a drunken internet browsing session and he would deny to the ends of the earth that he'd saved the link.

Besides, the Iron Man sketches had been far better.

Inside his head, there was a snort of pure contempt, and a derisive: '_This_ is what the genius of the modern age spends his time doing?'

Tony ignored the slur on his drawing skills – it wasn't _that_ bad – and started flicking the pencils next to him towards Dum-E, who did his best to grab them from the air, and of course failed miserably. Tony's grin was more than a little mean.

After making a little more progress the evening before, Tony using the excuse of work to escape further dreams, as he often did, today had once again seen them stalled with delays in Tony's requested items reaching them. Even with the angry-snarky email he'd send, he didn't expect them until at least the afternoon.

Perhaps it was just as well, because Tony found his mind distracted from work, more focussed on the conversations of last night and Loki's confession.

It was strange to think that all of Loki's actions against Thor and against the earth stemmed from feelings of inadequacy – strange, and yet why not? Gods weren't perfect, were just otherworldly beings who made the same mistakes as humans, and that thought alone was one Tony didn't want to focus on too clearly. He stuck with Loki.

He'd heard the backstory from Thor, of course, before and after the Chitauri invasion, Loki's discovery of his true heritage, his fall into the cracks of the universe, and the madness that seemed to take over him then and drive him to destroy the earth.

Except it hadn't felt like madness to Tony last night.

It had felt like pain, and bewilderment at the hand dealt, and the urge to cause pain in order to escape one's own.

It was a feeling Tony knew well, after all.

He didn't think he could forgive the god for what he'd done; the memories were too fresh - falling through the window, wondering if his suit would reach him in time, the feel and weight of the bomb against his shoulder, the army in his vision on the other side of space.

That was the worst of it: the realisation that he was just a man, and there were such things, such enemies out there that he had agreed to face, and would face, although the probability of him surviving it would be slim.

Part of him did not blame Fury and his superiors for the Phase Two weapons. Sure, they'd gone about it in a stupid way, playing around with powers and mythical objects that they didn't understand – he conveniently ignored the sceptre currently lying inert on the other side of the room – but weren't their actions a result of the same things he'd felt?

There would be others, he knew – they all knew. This was just the start.

Tony wasn't a hero, he'd said as much many times, and yet he knew he'd continue going out beside the others. He would still fight, even with that fear that seemed to have taken hold of him permanently.

How did he describe those kinds of feelings to one who'd travelled through galaxies, to whom the very thought of insignificance did not even touch?

He couldn't, so he did not try.

But even if he couldn't forgive Loki for his actions, he felt empathy for him.

The two of them weren't so different after all.

'Sir, Miss Potts is on the line for you,' JARVIS' smooth voice interrupted his thoughts, and he dropped the pencil he'd been idly doodling with.

'Put her through,' Tony ordered, and was at once greeted by Pepper's affectionate, scolding tones. It seemed Steve had contacted her about the incident the day before.

Tony spent half an hour on the phone reassuring her that all was well and no harm had come to him – "I got a full clear from Bruce!", "That's not the way he tells it," Pepper snorted – and agreeing to meet up for dinner later in the week when she returned from her business trip to London.

'Your relationship with Miss Potts is delightfully entertaining,' Loki commented after Tony had hung up the phone.

Tony frowned. 'What do you mean?'

'It is masterful the way she weaves affection and control, how she manipulates you.'

'She does not manipulate me,' Tony protested. 'It's called compromise; that's what you do in a relationship.'

Loki hummed, half-convincingly.

'What about you? Have you got someone?'

'Not like that, no,' Loki replied honestly, and almost wistfully, so that Tony felt bad about bringing it up, even if the god had raised their respective relationships first.

'Look… I know I'm not good enough for her,' Tony said, 'but I am a better person for being with her.'

'You cannot define yourself on someone else in such a way forever,' Loki told him gently, the weight of his centuries in his voice.

It was so easy to forget sometimes that Tony was like a child to him in years and experience and power. His lipped thinned, and he turned back to his drawings – not offended, but not wishing to continue either.

Loki seemed to pick up on it, for he swiftly changed the subject.

'I find your machines fascinating, in a human sort of way.'

Tony smiled, somewhat smugly. 'Less human, more genius, thank you.'

'Have you ever considered a collaboration with magick? I feel the result would be most elegant and deadly.'

Tony tilted his head to the side. 'AIs and magic? It would be a challenge I suppose. I thought I heard of someone who'd combined the two before… A lot of potential to go wrong…'

His voice trailed off musingly, and a telltale spark lit his eyes as he considered the possibility.

'Sir, I am finding these one-sided conversations of yours most disconcerting. It makes keeping an eye on what you plan to do doubly difficult,' JARVIS interrupted, the AI's voice almost bordering on a whine, but that would have been pathetic, so Tony gave him the benefit of the doubt and called it concerned.

'You don't know what's going on in my head most of the time, JARVIS, so it should hardly make a difference.'

'Normally, sir, you don't have the God of Mischief as a compatriot in your deeds.'

'True,' Tony acknowledge with a hum, then narrowed his eyes. 'Wait a minute – did you say keep an eye on me? Have you been telling Pepper of my plans? I knew she found those Iron Tank plans far too quickly.'

'What ho, Stark, is this dissention in the ranks I hear?' Loki's voice purred in his mind, all mischief and glee.

'More like the first stages of a coup,' Tony grumbled, shooting JARVIS' screens a glare. 'You traitor. Watch yourself, or I'll use your drives to upload Swedish porn.'

'I doubt it, sir,' JARVIS responded, sounding far too smug. 'You rely on me far too much.'

'For a start,' Tony threatened.

JARVIS didn't reply.

After a moment, Loki's amused voice asked: 'Swedish?'

Tony bared his teeth and turned back to his desk.

Before he could suggest what to do now, Steve's voiced sounded over the House comms.

'Everyone, can you please make your way to the meeting room? Thor has returned.'

* * *

'This is foolish! He is bound to notice something – you should have stayed in your rooms.'

Tony ignored Loki's hissed words and rising panic. 'Hush,' he muttered as he hit the button for the lift up. 'Whatever he's come back for, it's probably important and probably related to you, so guess what: it makes more sense to be there to hear it first hand.'

'And if I am caught? What then will you do?'

'You're allowed to be worried, you know,' he told the god inside his mind. 'But it's all right. I'm on your side. I promised I'd get you out of here, and I will. Now, seriously, hush. Don't need to be getting distracted.'

Loki hushed then, but only because Tony was stepping out onto the corridor, and immediately before him was Thor. His face looked somewhat haggard, his hair mussed, and his clothes slept-in. It didn't detract from his ever-present energy though, and his face lit up in a smile when he saw Tony – although he noticed it didn't quite reach his eyes as it was wont to do.

'Anthony,' Thor greeted, clapping the smaller man on the shoulder when he came within touching distance.

Tony just managed to keep his legs from buckling.

'Thor, good to see you,' he answered.

'I wish it were so, but I come with grave news.' Thor sighed gustily.

'Come on, folks, let's move it inside.' Steve ushered them inside the room, and the Avengers all took their places, Tony sitting himself beside Bruce.

Thor remained standing at the head of the table, his large hands resting against the surface, Mjolnir dangling from his belt.

'I wish I returned with better news, my friends, but alas, I do not. Loki has escaped from Asgard.'

There was little in the way of surprise that met his announcement; they'd all known Loki was a sneaky character, and most has suspected the chances of him escaping were high. It was only Tony who had had actual proof until now.

'Please, continue,' Steve prompted the Thunder God.

'We do not know exactly when he escaped, but it would appear to have been shortly after his return to Asgard. He was last seen entering his holding cell, and then…. The guard who returned to provide nourishment found the cell empty.

'We do not know the exact means of his escape, for we had thought his sorcery bound. But Loki has spent years learning of other worlds. We should have been warier. We have conducted a search throughout Asgard, but he was not found. I have returned to Midgard, therefore, as the Allfather believes this to be his most likely destination considering it was the location of his capture. He may be seeking retaliation upon us.

'We must be vigilant, guard ourselves against potential attack, and we must also search for my brother, if we can.'

Steve nodded decisively. 'Where should we begin?'

Tony had already stopped listening, too preoccupied with the roiling emotions inside of him – Loki.

'Excuse me, back in a minute,' he interrupted loudly, pushing back from the table and stepping out of the room before the others could stop him.

He opened the door to the nearest room – a storage room, it turned out – and stumbled inside, slamming the door shut behind him and leaning heavily against it.

'Loki, talk to me,' he demanded, worried about the feelings coming from the god inside him; they caused his chest to tighten. That he was upset was obvious. 'I can't help if I don't know what's going on…I haven't got your mind-reading prowess. Besides, you're giving me indigestion.'

The tension inside of him seemed to ease ever so slightly. 'You would compare me to a mortal illness?' He seemed baffled, his voice slightly reedy, and Tony knew he was focussing on the mundane simply to avoid whatever had triggered his distress.

Tony snorted. 'Depends what you'd suggest as a remedy,' he teased.

'I fear whatever I suggested would be poison to your mortal form.'

'Slugs and snails and puppy dog tails?' Tony suggested with a smirk.

'That seems like an odd choice for a medicinal potion,' Loki commented, before his tone turned musing. 'I suppose if you selected the correct breed, pup tails might have some regenerative properties…'

Tony didn't know whether to laugh or squirm in discomfort. 'It was a joke. We don't actually do that.'

'Ah.'

Silence descended upon them, and the air around him was far less tense than it had been just moments before.

'You okay?' Tony asked softly.

There was a flicker of distress, but it was quickly contained. 'If what my… if what Thor says is true, that my body was not found in Asgard, it means it was likely caught up in the transportation spell, and it could be located anywhere, making it infinitely harder to find and retrieve.' His voice was bleak, a small waver that was barely audible, felt more as a tremor in Tony's gut.

'Do you think it is somewhere out there?'

'I have travelled, Stark, but I do not know the intricacies of every corner of space,' Loki replied testily. 'I am an immortal, but I am not indestructible. There is no telling whether it has been destroyed.'

'Yeah, about that,' Tony interrupted, a little breezily. 'I think I might have an idea.' Throughout their exchange, his mind had been hard at work, busily plotting and planning, and the result of his musings was a farfetched but possible idea, if he did say so himself.

'Tell me,' Loki ordered, and if he didn't sound that convinced or eager, well, Tony just blamed it on him still being upset.

'Later,' Tony replied, straightening from where he'd been leaning against the door. 'We've been gone too long; someone might think they need to come after us. I'll tell you after the meeting's over.'

He spun on his heel and reached for the handle, then paused. 'Please tell me that I didn't just say "we".'

Loki's humour was a warm spark inside him. 'It appears to me these aspersions on my title and position are merely a symptom of your jealousy.'

A smile curled around Tony's mouth as he left the cupboard and returned to the meeting.

* * *

Loki supposed he should be paying greater attention to the discussion around him, particularly as he was the object of it, but he found himself unable to, simply letting the words float around him.

His own thoughts were reeling, hard to grasp, like wisps of air, or a fading echo.

Harm befalling his body had always been a possibility, and one he'd thought himself prepared for – but apparently not.

To think that an accident of magick could lose him his form, could render him trapped here with Stark for – not even eternity – but the length of the mortal's life.

Oh how the mighty have fallen, and oh how fitting Odin would think; he wondered if this might be the Allfather's plan to teach him humility and love for humans.

Doubtful, though; Odin had always preferred to make it clear when he doled out his punishments and teachings.

How would anyone learn the required lesson otherwise?

If he'd had his physical form, he might have felt an ache inside his chest, a queasiness in his stomach; as it was, his distress expressed itself in sharp, jagged edges of his mind and the buzzing of his thoughts.

Stark lifted a hand to his stomach and muttered "settle down" to Loki, and "need to get Dum-E to change the coffee filter" to the soft murmur of a comrade. There was a teasing comment from someone else, a titter of laughter around the table, and then conversation continued.

Loki settled, on the surface at least, if not wholly.

There was no need to discomfort Stark as well as himself, not if he would be even more reliant on the man.

Despite the dread he felt at the prospect, the disgust he would have expected to feel did not arise.

* * *

'Tell me your plan,' Loki demanded, as soon as the two were enclosed in Stark's lab once more.

'All right, all right…' Stark replied, feigning irritation on the surface, but once he'd settled himself into his customary seat at his workbench, he yielded to Loki's request easily enough.

'We already established that the sceptre is the key to opening doors in the universe, and it's probably the best way to get you back into your body; in that vein, is it also not possible to use it to locate your body and transport it to us?'

Loki considered it a moment, bringing to mind all he knew and had experienced with the sceptre. It was a powerful item, but also an odd one, if he were honest. Using it did not require much in the way of skill or power, but it did require a strong will, and Tony Stark had more than enough of that.

'I believe that your idea has merit,' he announced at last, and couldn't quash the tiny bit of hope that bubbled up inside him, so different to the despair that had gripped him earlier upon hearing Thor's words.

Stark continued to surprise him.

'When can we begin?' he asked, an eager bite to his voice.

'JARVIS, have those parts arrived yet?'

'Yes, sir; they are waiting upstairs in the hallway.'

'Good. Then we can start this afternoon, I reckon. It'll take me a few hours to jig up a scanner, then I need to replace the parts that blew the last time I tried to jumpstart the sceptre, and we can give it a go.'

'The sooner the better,' Loki told him vehemently, although the moment the words were spoken, he regretted them; out of all the hosts he could have come to, Stark was perhaps the least objectionable, and perhaps the most useful…

'Sir, Thor is requesting entry.'

Loki let loose a soft curse, an almost involuntary reaction.

'Hush, now,' Stark warned him. 'Let's see what he wants. Let him in,' he instructed the unseen servant, settling down onto his customary seat and facing the entrance to his labs.

Thor entered somewhat hesitantly, his movements sluggish and his large shoulder drooped. His eyes flickered across the machines and tools that lay scattered around the lab.

'You have been busy since I last saw you,' the Thunder God told him by way of greeting.

'You know me, always need to fiddle with something – keeps me out of trouble, I suppose.'

'Liar,' Loki whispered, unable to resist, and felt Stark's lips twitch.

'What can I do for you?' Stark continued.

'Captain Rogers informed me that you have been given my brother's sceptre to experiment upon.' Thor came to stand beside the item, still resting as it had for the last several days. He reached out one hand, but stopped before he made contact with the metal.

'Fury gave the all clear,' Stark answered.

Thor frowned minutely, clearly uncomfortable. 'It is a dangerous item,' he told him. 'A formidable weapon not for mortal hands. I had thought to return it to Asgard.'

'Interfering buffoon!' Loki snarled, incensed by the thought of Thor taking away the item which might return him to his body. It reminded him of their childhood on Asgard, when Thor had spoiled many a game of Loki's by tattling to Frigga, before Loki had learned to turn the tables and his tricks, before Thor had turned rebellious and learned to defy the rules Odin had set.

'The item has no magick in it, not since Loki left,' Stark interrupted Loki's unhappy thoughts to answer Thor. 'I am analysing the craftsmanship of it more than anything.'

Thor's frown remained, but some of the tension left his frame, and he nodded, believing the mortal's words. Loki wouldn't have trusted so easily, especially a mortal who knew little of Asgardian magicks.

'Still; have care,' he cautioned.

'Will do,' Stark replied. 'Was there anything else?'

Thor's mouth tightened, and he shook his head.

'How long do you plan to stay here?' Stark queried. 'Not that I don't want you here, but I'm curious and all.'

Thor smiled slightly, unperturbed by Stark's words. 'For as long as necessary until I find my brother.'

'Is he really still so dangerous, do you think – to either you or the rest of us?' Stark asked.

Loki did not like the turn in conversation. 'Stark… what game are you playing? Cease this line of questioning.'

'I once would have said he would not harm me, for we are brothers, but past events have suggested Loki no longer holds me in as high esteem as he did when we were young.' He spoke thoughtfully, his tone heavy with a regret and guilt that could not help come through.

'And do you feel the same way?' Stark pressed, and Loki had given up trying to prevent him.

'I do not understand his actions; they are alien to me. But he remains my brother, and I will not see him harmed. I will fight any who seek to do so.' He spoke brashly, and his eyes glowed with the ferocity that called thunder from the skies and made Mjolnir answer his call.

Something inside Loki quivered.

Stark nodded slowly. 'And what happens if he is found?'

'We return him to Asgard,' Thor replied immediately. 'He is still answerable for his crimes.'

'And if he should escape again?'

'The same.' Thor frowned. 'Why do you ask these questions, Man of Iron?'

'Bear with me, I'm just getting there; so let me get this straight, you'll just keep cycling round in this cat and mouse game?' His tone was persistent.

'Until there is a change, yes. Either until Loki no longer harbours ill-will towards Earth and its people, or I am dead.'

Silence followed his words, and Thor glanced down at his large hands, resting beside Loki's sceptre. His lips quirked downwards.

'However, I know my brother, and he has the same stubborn heart as I. Seeking to undo the damage he has wrought will be my burden.' His smile was sad, and his eyes steadfast.

Stark nodded, and said no more, finally.

After a moment, Thor left with a softly-spoken farewell, Stark's gaze following him out.

'What was the purpose of that?' Loki's voice trembled with anger barely held in check, although whom or what bore the brunt of it, he wasn't quite sure: Stark, certainly, for raising questions best left unsaid; Thor, for his unwavering belief in a bond of brotherhood which no longer existed; and himself, too, for being affected when he only strove for indifference.

Thor's regard for him had never been in doubt; it was Odin's he had forever sought.

'Just getting some answers,' Stark replied quietly, innocently.

Loki did not believe it even if he did not quite understand what the man's motives had been. 'He will martyr himself under the burden of his bastard brother,' he scoffed.

'That's what people do for the ones they love.'

'Then he is foolish. Do you seek a reconciliation? Reality does not follow such simple lines.'

'Well, perhaps that's something for you to think about. Now come on, let's get on with it.'

* * *

In the end, it all worked surprisingly smoothly. Not that Tony didn't have confidence in his plans, but this was magic after all, and it had been the sceptre that had been the cause of the original mess.

Still, aside from an untimely and potentially disastrous interruption from Steve, it all went without a hitch.

Tony fixed the parts that his first experiment had destroyed, repeated his previous actions, but this time without the unexpected explosion, and followed Loki's instructions on how to activate and use the sceptre.

It was odd, holding the device in his hands and – as far as he could tell - instructing it with just his mind and will. Odd, and strangely euphoric.

Despite it being his plan, the finer details of how the magic from the sceptre located and transported Loki's body to his lab were lost on him, but he could let that slide when faced with the result: a flash of blue, a crackle and a spark, and before he could say "Abracadabra", Loki's body lay before him on the cold floor.

His clothes had been lost in the travel, Tony supposed, as he was completely nude. He should have expected it, but the strength and grace in those long, pale limbs took him by surprise; he'd seen Loki fight before, knew there was art in his movements, but this was the first time he'd seen him without all the fancy god-made clothes, and he could readily admit to himself that the sight was by no means unappealing.

His eyes traced over the body, checking for injuries, or so he told himself, roving up from the finely-boned feet, over long legs and cock nestled in black hair between jutting hipbones, up the slim but muscled chest to the pointed chin and his face. The god's dark hair curled gently at the ends, and lay in a spread around his head; those piercing eyes were hidden behind closed lids, the usually hard mouth softened in repose.

To think this otherwordly being could hold so much power and potential for destruction; it did not seem like it now, when the soul was separate and inside Tony, and the body lay still as -

'…Snow White,' he muttered under his breath, completing the thought.

'What was that?' Loki's questioned sharply, although he seemed too distracted by their apparent success to chase the comment further.

'Nothing,' Tony coughed, clearing his throat as he set the sceptre aside on the bench and stepped forward.

As he came closer, he noted that Loki's chest rose and fell in slow movements, almost unnoticeable from where he had been, and Tony felt relief dart through him and he swallowed thickly.

'We seem to have done it,' he said, as much to himself as Loki.

'Not quite,' Loki replied tightly. 'We still have to return me to my physical self; it is as well my body seems to be undamaged.'

This was the part of the plan which Tony hadn't quite worked out yet, the part that was entirely magical and therefore Loki's domain. 'Any ideas?'

A vibration of uneasy emotion from Loki. 'Perhaps,' he said cautiously, and Tony knew at once he was concealing something.

'What?' he asked suspiciously.

'You are unlikely to agree,' the god answered brusquely.

Tony sighed, and rubbed at his forehead. 'Unless you tell me, I can't exactly make the choice, can I?'

Loki's voice sounded a soft breath inside him, as if the god were unwilling to voice his ideas, which seemed absurd after they'd come this far, and returning Loki to his body was their goal.

'To return my consciousness to my body, I will need to access my magick,' he explained softly.

It took Tony a few seconds to grasp the meaning behind his words, but the moment it did, he felt his chest grow tight, and his hand rose automatically to the metal circle in his chest.

'You want me to take it out.'

'I want you to take it out,' Loki agreed softly.

'How long? And how far away?'

'Not long, and it does not have to be far. I would keep you safe, Stark,' Loki promised.

'Sir, I really must protest-' JARVIS began, but Tony cut him off.

'Quiet. I need to think on this,' Tony informed him through the tightness in his throat, and stumbled the few steps across the room it took to reach his chair. He sunk into it gratefully, dropped his head back and closed his eyes as the thoughts jumbled through his mind.

It wasn't an easy thing which Loki asked of him; even the very mention of it brought back painful memories of Obadiah, of betrayal, and a body that wouldn't obey him even though he knew his life ticked by.

It wasn't the same, of course, he knew that. Loki wasn't forcing this on him -_yet_, a dark part of his mind whispered, _he likely would if he could_.

There was the rest to consider too; for whatever reason, the arc reactor held Loki's magic in check, but that meant it also prevented Loki from taking over Tony's mind. Even without his knowledge of magic, Tony was pretty sharp and he could read between the lines: for Loki to use his magic, he would have to use it through Tony, and that meant _controlling_ him.

The thought made him queasy, his stomach muscles quivering with apprehension, and his mind shied away from the images that arose – of being taken over, of losing himself, slipping away into nothingness of which there was no guarantee of return.

_You're catastrophising_, he scolded himself, cutting off that fall into hysteria, riding the edge of it.

He thought of alternatives. How long would it take to figure out another way? He was sure the sceptre could be of use again, and Loki had to have skills and knowledge of other things they could try. This was his first suggestion, true, but he may have chosen it simply because he viewed it as the easiest. It did not mean there were no other options.

But how long would they take? The longer they took in experimenting, the more likely they would be found out. What's to say others on Asgard weren't already working on a means to retrieve Loki's body just as Tony had done; come on, if even he could do it, he was sure there was someone else who would be able to figure it out.

Was he going to ruin their plans on account of cowardice?

Just a little cardiac arrest, he told himself; just a bit of mind control.

Since Loki's invasion into his mind, he'd come to know the god, just a little, he thought, just enough. There was something so very human about him, for all he derided them; and also something so pitiable, yet admirable too.

He would look after him, would he? Words from the Liesmith, the Silvertongue. Could Tony really believe it?

Only one way to find out.

His hand slipped under his shirt before he could change his mind, a pressure of fingers and a twist of his wrist, and the arc reactor slipped from its metal sheath into his hand; another flick and the wires disconnected, and his body jerked, his hand riddled with tremors as he laid the energy device aside.

'Thank you,' Loki's voice whispered in his mind, a breath of warmth that glowed with gratitude. 'I will keep you safe, Tony.'

Before Tony could even think to comment on the change in address, cold and darkness shrouded his vision.

* * *

That first feeling of his magick unfurling, his to use again, was a heady one, filling him with strength and satisfaction before he plunged into the mortal's mind, his own engulfing thoughts and memories like the swift strike of a viper. Stark's mind buffeted against his own, a weak attempt at resistance easily overcome now that the strange power of the arc reactor had no effect. It rippled and became still, held in his mental-magickal embrace, now his to do with as he willed.

Still, no harm would come to Stark; he had promised, after all, and it was one he intended to keep.

In that moment of ultimate control, came ultimate knowledge: Stark's being was open to him utterly.

He saw the loneliness of a young boy who yearned for affection; he saw the ambition of a youth, a hunger tempered by softer pursuits; he saw the betrayal of one considered friend, and a cave that was a prison; the glow of the Avengers, looked on sometimes with exasperation, but always considered companions and home.

He saw what was, and it opened his eyes to what could be.

It was a struggle to draw himself away from the core of Tony Stark, not because it held him, but because he did not wish to leave.

Still, he was aware that his time was limited. The mortal's mind faded into the background, his own came to the fore, and he opened the eyes of Stark's body, felt his consciousness settle into the physical form.

Pain struck him first, the consequence of removing the arc reactor, he supposed, and he found his limbs sluggish and his movements jerky. At least he had no delicate tasks to perform. He staggered to his feet and moved to his own body.

Returning to his own form was easy, his consciousness already streaming out from Stark's body the moment he laid his hands on his form, fuelled by the overwhelming need to be himself again.

As his consciousness left Stark's body, it dropped to the floor, but it seemed unimportant in that instant; his focus was on returning to himself, feeling the familiar flow of energy through his body, that funny mixture of Jotunn and Aesir that was forever burned on his awareness. Right then, it felt glorious.

He rose from his supine position, flexing his fingers and hands, shaking his hair back from his face. Almost involuntarily, he ran his hands lightly over his chest and thighs, reconnecting himself to his own form. The last he'd felt so disconnected had been the discovery of his true parentage.

A sigh, largely of relief, escape him, and he swung his legs round to stand on bare feet. A spell-word, and he was clothed in familiar Asgardian garments of black leather and gold metal.

His attention turned to Tony Stark, then, and he knelt swiftly by the mortal's side, feeling for the beat of his heart; it was there, but irregular, his breathing shallow and his colour pasty white. The removal of the arc reactor should not have affected him so much, but in addition to Loki's magick…

Loki's expression was grim as he flung out a hand and called Stark's device to him; it didn't move, and he cursed under his breath, determined that at some point he would have a closer look at this strange creation and why it defied his magick and power.

No time for it now, though, and so he rose to his feet to retrieve it by hand. The strange element burned into his hand, and he gritted his teeth against the sharp ache it caused, refusing to relinquish the item. He knelt by Stark's side once more, and pushed up the man's shirt to reveal the gaping space in his chest. Loki did not even flinch as he settled the device back in its place, releasing it with a final twist that brought it to light.

The effect on the mortal was instant, his breathing more settled, his heart falling into a regular rhythm. His eyes remained closed, although Loki was not surprised.

He slipped his arms beneath the other's body, bearing his weight easily into the air, the man's head resting against his shoulder. A few steps and he laid the man down to his pallet, cushioning his head and manoeuvring his limbs into a comfortable position.

Stark let out a grumble of protest, his eyes opening blearily to rest on Loki. 'Y'bac'?' he slurred, and his hand reached out to grasp weakly at Loki's arm.

'I am,' Loki replied gently. 'Rest now.'

'Don' go?' Stark mumbled, his order more of a question. His eyelids fluttered; he was barely keeping awake. His hand slipped from its hold on Loki.

Loki hesitated, then sighed, twisting his body to kneel at the mortal's side.

'Have no fear,' he replied to the unconscious man, reaching out to rest his right palm against the man's chest, just beside the metal ring. The light just illuminated a faint silver scar on the surface of his skin where he'd gripped the arc reactor. 'We are far from finished.'

* * *

Tony woke suddenly an indeterminate amount later, his body stiff and recovering from his foolishness; his mind becoming more alert by the second, he pushed himself upright, leaning onto one elbow while he surveyed the room. It took a few seconds for his eyes to find the other person in the room, and the momentary flare of panic was replaced with an altogether different kind of tension.

Loki glanced over from where he had been leaning casually against a bench on the other side of the room, turned his body to face Tony's but remained as he was. Those green eyes gazed into his, and Tony felt the weight of that stare settle over his chest. It made his mouth instantly dry.

'How long have I been asleep?' he asked through a scratchy throat, breaking the hold the god's stare had on him.

'An hour, perhaps; no more,' the god answered.

Tony nodded. It was funny how awkward he felt speaking to the other man. He'd had little issue with it when Loki had shared his mind.

'Everything okay with your…' he waved at Loki's body vaguely.

The skin around Loki's eyes crinkled, his expression faintly amused. 'I am well, yes; I sustained no injuries in the transfer and I am as I was, thanks to you, Tony Stark.'

Tony gave a one-shouldered shrug, embarrassed by the praise; it hadn't been an easy choice, but it had been the right one to make, that he knew, even though he felt a sort of uncomfortable emptiness inside him now, as if something important had been taken away. He only hoped the feeling would pass.

'I'm surprised you stayed,' he admitted.

'You asked me to,' came the reply.

Tony had nothing to say to that, not yet. 'What will you do next?'

Loki looked to the side, gazing around the lab, his eyes contemplative. 'Travel, perhaps. I have always loved discovering the secrets of the Realms, and I feel as if I haven't spent enough time learning the secrets of this one.'

'Gallivanting the galaxies like a true explorer.' Tony grinned.

Loki's nose wrinkled. 'I do not 'gallivant', as you so insipidly put it.' His expression smoothed. 'Thor still searches for me. It is best I remain hidden for now.'

Tony nodded in agreement. Loki would be able to stay hidden if he chose, he knew. 'You should keep the staff. It's yours,' he explained. 'Just maybe try not to use it for any world-domination schemes from now on.'

Loki's eyes showed surprise. 'How many promises would you eke from me?'

Tony shrugged lightly, and the god's lips curled obligingly. 'Very well; another promise it is.'

He turned his back to Tony and called his sceptre to him; it flared with blue light and settled into his hands as if it belonged, which of course it did. Loki gazed down at it, uncertainly, his expression almost lost.

If Tony didn't know better, he might have assumed that Loki didn't know what he wanted to do.

'You could stay,' he suddenly offered, faint hope in his voice. It puzzled him how much he didn't want the other man to leave. 'Sort it out with Thor and the others, prove to them you've changed?'

Loki raised scornful eyes to Tony's, his lips twisted down. 'How can I prove it to them, when I must first prove it to myself?' He shook his head. 'No, it is for the best…and the sooner, the better.' He stood straighter, took a step away from the counter. 'You will not be troubled overmuch for what you have done for me?'

Tony thought about it a moment, grimaced, then shrugged a little. 'I'll probably get a slap on the wrist, but I'm sure they'll forgive me eventually.'

'Yes, I believe you are right,' Loki said quietly. His mouth twitched upwards in a smirk, and his eyes glittered. 'Foolish things for the ones we love, is that not correct?'

Tony returned the grin, feeling slightly light-headed; he sensed there was deeper meaning to Loki's words, but he couldn't decipher it yet. 'That's right. Don't forget to bring me back a souvenir.'

Loki snorted softly, nodded one last time, and then in a flash of light, he was gone.

* * *

It ended very much like it had started, in a dim-lit room, in the hot-seat facing Fury. Only this time, the other Avengers members were also gathered round the table, and none of them looked happy.

'Stark, would you care to repeat what you've just said, _very slowly_, with particular attention to detail, as I can only conclude that either I am deaf, or you have suffered some serious mental damage from your recent incident. Those are the only two explanations I can come up with for the absolute magnitude of fuckshit that just came out of your mouth.' Well, Fury certainly didn't mince his words.

Tony decided perhaps now wasn't the best time to make a crack about Fury and a dictionary, and got to it.

* * *

_Three weeks later_

Tony sighed as he entered his bedroom, wiping away the sweat that had gathered on his face and neck with a hand-towel, rolling his stiff shoulders to work out some of the kinks; Steve had worked him hard in training again, but it had been marginally less painful than last week, so it must mean his anger at Tony was diminishing somewhat.

Tony hadn't been the most popular man in the mansion since his confession over Loki's mind-meld and subsequent absconsion with the sceptre. It seemed everyone had something to say on the matter of Tony's list of crimes, and they'd certainly not kept quiet about it. It was only Thor's word in support of Tony and his brother which had kept Tony from seriously being in the dog-house, and even then Thor had given Tony odd, considering looks during the few days before he had been summoned to continue the search for Loki once more.

What followed had been several weeks of bare-civility from Natasha and Clint, bafflement and constant check-ups from Bruce, and stern looks and disapproving lectures from Steve while he worked Tony to exhaustion in an attempt to keep him out of trouble. Hell, Tony hadn't even been allowed to go near his lab until yesterday. Even Pepper had sent him a sharp email, and the less said about Fury's interrogations the better.

_This is what you get for opening your big mouth_, he told himself, letting out a heartfelt groan as his shoulder popped. _Should have taken the Liesmith's cue and come up with a better story for how the sceptre disappeared_, he thought, smiling.

Thinking about the god turned his smile bittersweet.

He still attended meetings, so he knew that there had been no sighting of the green-eyed god since he'd left Tony's labs. He supposed it meant that Loki was keeping out of trouble – well, he _hoped_ it meant that.

There was a selfish part of him that wanted Loki to prove Fury and the others wrong, to show that he wouldn't do what they thought he would do; it was both for Tony's sake, and Loki's, a giant "fuck you" to the naysayers. He thought Loki would appreciate that kind of sentiment.

Sometimes, those little thoughts would appear at random; comments he could make that he thought the other would appreciate; he'd come up with a few more Disney puns too, before he remembered that Loki was not there to share them with. He tucked them away, a thread of hope remaining stubbornly, telling him that he would see the god again.

To think, how much he had hated the idea of it in the beginning, and yet how he missed it now.

He snorted at his own foolish thoughts, and dropped down onto the bed with a soft thump.

He grunted when his arse-cheek came into contact with something small and hard, and dug underneath to draw the object out. He narrowed his eyes at his small prize: it appeared to be a round gemstone, about two centimetres in diameter; it shone green in one light, black when turned into another. There seemed to be something in the centre of it too, but Tony could not see clearly enough.

'JARVIS, can you raise the lights please?'

The AI obeyed, and the room was flooded with bright light. Tony stood and held the gem above his head, closer to the light.

He smiled when he saw it, an involuntary smile full of warmth and affection.

In the centre of the gem was a tiniest sliver of blue, and the longer Tony looked at it, the brighter it glowed.

'JARVIS, how did this get here?' he questioned, lowering the gem again and rolling it in the palm of his hand. It was warm to the touch.

'I'm afraid I do not know, sir. I appear to have lost some seconds of visual and auditory recordings at around five pm this evening. Would you like me to run scans on the item, sir?'

'No, it's all right,' Tony told him, still looking at the gem. 'I'm pretty sure I know who it's from.'

He wandered over to the dressing table in the corner of the room, rummaging through several watch cases and cufflink boxes. He found a box of decent size, dumped its contents into another box, and gently placed the gem inside the velvet covered base. His lips twitched.

'Seems I got my souvenir after all,' he said into the empty room, and with one last glance inside, snapped shut the box and tucked it into his pocket.

* * *

End.


End file.
